Running Up That Hill
by parakitty
Summary: Current Chapter: 07 - Seven of Nine makes a decision.
1. Chapter 01  Fractured

**Running Up That Hill:**  
A Janeway / Seven Series

**Author:** ladydameon**  
Co-Author(s):** Lain Stardust**  
Beta(s):** Captain Java

**General Genre:** Sci-Fi Adventure / Romance Drama

**Spoilers:** The timeline begins shortly after _Life Line_ in Season Six.

**General Disclaimer(s):** We, the authors of this particular work of fiction claim no profit or protégé, and mean no disregard to any reviewing or sovereign party. By extension and addition, we mean no disrespect to anyone associated with the development or portrayal of the fictional characters contained within this work or the universe in which they inhabit. This work of fiction's primary purpose remains free, personal entertainment as well as the possible entertainment of others.

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**Chapter 1:** Fractured**  
Rating:** PG-13 / T

**Summary:** As an away mission turns dire, Captain Janeway, Ensign Harry Kim and Seven of Nine are left to their own devices in a warzone while waiting for rescue.

**Author's Note:** We're simply opening the door... Also, please note that all Officer logs are recorded in each section's indicated timeframe.

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**[Teaser]**

Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix 01 – the current Astrometrics Officer for the Federation starship _Voyager_– would not fail. Her current mission: reach the alien communications relay tower inconveniently located on the apex of a steep, uneven hillside riddled with loose gravel and jagged rock.

To make matters worse, an incoming mass of low, dark grey clouds were rolling over the valley at alarming speed, bringing with it the distant rumble of thunder, possibly lightening, and most certainly rain. The rain alone would make a bad situation worse and decidedly more difficult.

She used her seemingly inefficiently designed footwear to her advantage as she rammed the 8 centimeter heels into the jagged rocks – propelling her onward and bypassing a majority of the unstable rubble. Her enhanced strength, as was afforded by the remaining cybernetic Borg implants, was put to the test as her body was already feeling drained from the past few days: hiking through kilometers of dense foliage and rough terrain in a warzone, being exposed to bio-chemical agents. Seven ignored the disrupter fire, the pot-shots taken at her that caused bits of rock and dust to scatter through the humid air.

To further complicate the situation, she was all too aware of her crewmates' struggle behind and below her. They were growing considerably weaker from their constant excursions and were fundamentally defenseless while dutifully attempting to provide her cover for the rigorous climb to the tower. They valiantly challenged the well-equipped rebel soldiers in black and grey garb and gas masks who had been hunting them for the last day. Their survival depended on how quickly Seven of Nine could reach the communication tower and contact _Voyager_.

Two struggling humans were no match for six healthy and rested soldiers.

Again, failure was _not_ an option. There had been enough death on the Liratic home-world, and Seven wouldn't allow Ensign Kim or Captain Janeway to be added to the list of fatalities.

Slowing to better gauge the distance and appropriate approach to the tower, Seven saw another squad of soldiers wearing respirators – swarming from around her target – in the official colors of navy and crimson of the Liratic ground military force. A moment of confusion flooded Seven as they raised their weapons. The Liratic soldiers fired over and around Seven at the pursuing rebels at the base of the hill, which didn't necessarily guarantee these new arrivals would in fact help the _Voyager_ crew – perhaps even thinking the _Voyager_ crew part of the rebel offensive.

Four of the black and grey soldiers fell back to the forest edge, ducking behind massive tree trunks and other fallen natural debris and offering cover fire for their two comrades fighting with Kim and Janeway amongst large boulders and thinning scrub. At the sight of additional government troops, one of the rebels activated a communication device to call for reinforcements, an advantage to being line-of-sight of a communication relay tower.

The first descending group of Liratic soldiers moved into a protective position around Seven of Nine, forcing her to crouch with them in a defensible enclave of rocks as they laid cover fire for another Liratic squad now dashing down the jagged hillside towards the still struggling Kim and Janeway.

Although the sudden appearance of the Liratic soldiers forced the rebel forces to halt their advance and hold onto their more defensible position at the forest edge rather than press onward up the hillside, it was blatantly evident that additional rebel soldiers had been following the initial squad tracking the survivors of the crashed transport. At least two additional rebel scouts from another unit laid down heavy and continual weapons fire on the hillside, quickly taking out the initial Liratic squad moving down the hill.

With crossfire flying dangerously close overhead, Ensign Kim, covered with dust and dirt, fought with one of their rebel pursuers for control of a disrupter rifle while attempting to keep between two massive broken boulders that blocked any stray shots. They twisted each other around in some perverse dance, slamming the other against the boulders. A second black and grey geared soldier – believing he had rendered Janeway unconscious – moved behind Kim, ready to bring the butt of his rifle down between Kim's shoulder blades. However, the action was halted as a downed Janeway landed a solid kick on the back of the soldier's knee as he raised his weapon for the strike, forcing the rebel down and out from the protection of the boulders. As the downed rebel soldier scrambled to stand, he was shot by a third wave of advancing Liratic from the hillside, drawing Janeway's attention.

Kim was losing the fight for the disrupter as rain slowly started to fall.

Four more rebel soldiers emerged from the distant cover of the thick foliage, laying additional fire onto the hillside and stopping the advancement of the _Voyager_ crew's would-be saviors. Two of the newcomer rebels ran into the crossfire to aid their comrade struggling with Ensign Kim, whom they quickly subdued, leaving him unconscious on the ground. The disgruntled rebel that had been wrestling with Kim raised his weapon and took aim at the downed ensign. Janeway had managed to struggle to her feet while the rebels attacked Harry. Seeing him down, she reacted immediately, throwing herself into the aiming rebel and sending them both crashing to the hard ground in a tangle several feet from the others.

Now, the storm was directly overhead, and the rain fell steadily. The other two rebels were quickly deposited face down in the dampening dirt by weapons fire from the Liratic squads on the hill.

As Janeway twisted to her feet, her mind blurred, unable to focus as her body was quickly succumbing to the bio-chemical agents absorbed earlier in the creeping walk toward the hillside – toward the communication relay tower. The captain was finding it increasingly difficult to maintain an upright position, continually dropping to her knees in her almost frantic attempts to stand – mud clinging to her torn uniform and clumping onto her boots; but this didn't stop Janeway from trying to stand again – trying to reach Kim.

Crossfire continued to fill the air and burned the thinning plant life between the forest edge and the bottom of the hill. Bits of dirt and pebbles flew up into the air from the barrage of weapons fire, releasing the bio agent from its confines in the soil and creating a sort of toxic soup, an eerie, yellow steam rising despite the downpour.

Seven of Nine watched helplessly as her crewmates fought for their lives in the crossfire between the rebels and the Liratic soldiers. Seeing Kim go down, she lurched forward, prepared to leap into the fray to aid him, but was halted by a rough hand on the shoulder from one of the Liratic soldiers defending her, forcing her back into the protective enclave of rocks and men. It was surprising as well as annoying that he was so easily able to manhandle her. Returning her gaze to her crewmates, Seven saw a rebel soldier take aim at Kim and held her breath as the captain intervened. Again, she was powerless to offer any aid as Janeway struggled to stand, falling and slipping in the sludge of toxic mud. An unfamiliar feeling overtook Seven – one which she would later realize was terror – as she saw another rebel on the forest edge take aim at her exposed captain.

"Captain!" Seven shouted in warning over the roar of thunder and disrupter fire, once again attempting to burst forward, her eyes widening as she was again forced down by a Liratic soldier. There wouldn't be time for her to reach Janeway, even if she wasn't stopped.

Finally, Janeway, now completely soaked and her wet hair mashed against her skull, succeeded in getting to her feet once more, albeit shakily. Unknown to the captain, another rebel soldier stepped partially out of the protective cover of the foliage, and lined up his shot. Janeway was in his sights. At Seven's cry, he hesitated and noticed the mad charge of a comrade towards his current target.

Instinctively, the captain turned towards Seven as the younger woman's cry distracted her. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments, but the charging rebel soldier caught Janeway's attention as he made a beeline for her position. The rushing soldier pointed his weapon up the hill, vaguely aiming for Seven of Nine while taking pot-shots at the Liratic squads. Not wasting another moment, the captain scooped up a discarded rifle and quickly took him down – ending the rebel's suicide run.

Movement behind Janeway once again caught Seven's eye. The partially concealed rebel who had hesitated earlier returned crosshairs to target the captain. In a rush of adrenalin, Seven actually succeeded in pushing past her protectors, calling out to Janeway as she started down the hill, desperately trying not to slip on the wet gravel. "Captain, behind you!"

Janeway crouched low as she turned, barely managing to avoid the blast sent in her direction as she ducked into the protective hole between the two broken boulders. Fighting against the dizziness, she fired back at the rebel at the forest edge, causing him to find cover behind the tree trunks. Unfortunately, the now-hiding rebel saw Seven of Nine advancing down the hill and started to alternate his fire between her and Janeway. Seven's squad of protectors scrambled after their charge who had slipped away from them, out of the protective enclave, and who was now in harm's way.

Seven ducked behind an outcropping of rocks for cover halfway down the hill as disrupter blasts began singeing her with their proximity.

The rebel reinforcements started to emerge from the forest edge. Several had maneuvered themselves to come up along Seven's flank, converging on the very exposed woman and the squad that was trying to help her.

Sweating profusely, Janeway staggered to her feet again and moved to join her crewmember, firing at the rebels as she advanced on Seven's position, taking cover when possible. Harry Kim, for the most part, was safe between the broken boulders under the yellow shroud that now blanketed the ground. Janeway was in no shape to move his unconscious form. She'd just reached the base of the hill when her disruptor stopped firing, and she flung it away in disgust. The captain, quickly losing steam, trudged up the hill toward Seven as best she could, stumbling from exhaustion and the advancing effects of the bio-chemical agent in her system. She was still several meters from her target when instinct kicked in, causing her to turn and search the hillside. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the rebels kneel and aim at a point past her. From the angle, it was clear he had decided to take Seven down. Janeway pushed herself onward, unable to shout a warning, but able to get in the way. _Voyager_ needed Seven of Nine.

The Liratic squad converged on Seven's location at that moment, surrounding her once again while optimizing their protection with the rock outcropping. One of the soldiers at Seven's side readjusted to offer cover fire for Janeway, but he was unable to stop her from going down. Captain Janeway's eyes widened at the initial contact of the disrupter blast aimed for Seven of Nine before she ungracefully collapsed face down in the mud and loose gravel on the hillside.

Once again, Seven moved to rush to her crewmates, but was promptly and quite roughly shoved down, this time by two of her protectors. With the _Voyager_ crew down, the Liratic soldiers were unrestricted in their fire fight as the battle for the hill continued. Additional government troops arrived over the hill's crest laying down devastating damage on the meager rebel force, enabling the Liratic soldiers to secure the relay tower and retrieve the two downed aliens in the ensuing twenty minutes.

In all this chaos, Seven of Nine could only stare at the unmoving form of her drenched and muddy captain; and although her face was one of detachment, the Borg ex-drone felt numb and sickened. Despite her physical superiority, she had failed to reach the communication relay tower and thus save her crewmates.

* * *

**[Approximately 48 hours previously…]**

"Are you sure you don't want to take a security team?" Chakotay inquired as he escorted Janeway to Transporter Room 2. He caught the quick pursing of her lips as she obviously quelled her initial retort, shifting the small duffle strap on her shoulder in an attempt to hide a sigh.

It had been a hard transition in the last six years going from an outlaw Maquis to a Starfleet first officer. It was a role he never really wanted, but that had become painfully apparent as he rose in the ranks of Starfleet so many years ago. And not for the first time, Chakotay felt his father had been right; he didn't belong in either world. Such thinking had brought him to his current conundrum.

Wasn't it his job as XO to ensure the captain's safety? Of course, Chakotay was well aware that his attitude of late could use some improvement. That fact was effectively driven home when Tuvok approached him, repeatedly, regarding the captain's scheduled two night visit on the Liratic home-world.

"We're at the diplomatic stage now with the trade negotiations finalized, _Commander_. I'm sure Harry and Seven will be more than adequate protection on this token sojourn." Janeway stopped a few steps from the transporter room doors, wanting to finish the conversation far away from the curious ears of subordinates.

Three days of being led around by an alien ambassador wasn't the ideal break from captaincy Janeway had in mind. It did, however, offer certain opportunities. Seven of Nine was sorely in need of a break from the Borg children and they from her, whilst this was a distinct hands-on learning opportunity for Ensign Kim. After all, the young man had mentioned numerous times his desire to gain command experience, and diplomacy was a critical part of that experience. Both were in need of gaining an appreciative perspective of their given situations.

Knowing exactly how to defuse this situation, a smile slowly crept onto the captain's face. Her eyes twinkled as she said, "Don't tell me you'd rather go on the tour with Ambassador Kutok?" Janeway smirked at the slightly panicked look that flashed in Chakotay's eyes. Her first officer and the Liratic Ambassador had mixed like oil and water since their first encounter.

With a sigh, Chakotay recanted, "Alright." He stood with arms akimbo while casting his eyes down, searching the deck. Today wasn't going to mark a winning battle for his self-proclaimed war of becoming a better officer – nor a better friend to the person he swore to help.

Janeway chuckled lightly as she stepped into the transporter room, taking her place on the pad with her waiting crewmen and ordering the technician on duty to energize.

* * *

**[Approximately 24 hours previously…]**

First Officers' Log, Stardate: 53953.5:_ After leaving the captain, Ensign Kim and Seven of Nine planet-side, _Voyager_ headed towards the Liratic supply depot in a neighboring system. The plan was to complete the exchange and return to the planet for some much needed shore leave. However, things didn't go quite as intended as we were a day out – almost to the depot – when we received a communiqué informing us that the transport shuttle taking our crew on an aerial tour of the planet had been shot down over the northern continent. Naturally, the Liratic government had assured us that they were doing everything possible to locate our people._

Night on this alien world had an almost magical quality for an off-worlder. The sky danced brilliantly overhead with stars and a distant nebula smearing across the horizon like an artist's palette. A gentle shift of a sweet, summer breeze rustled the rich plant life under a pair of full moons.

However, this was not the much preferred tranquil night the away team of the starship _Voyager_ had hoped for. It was a night torn by war on the northern-most continent. The earth was scarred with the evidence of destruction as hot green-yellow trails ripped through the smooth, deep purple sky only to land in a loud and bright burst of orange fire.

Shifting slightly, Captain Janeway kept her vigilant watch, occasionally looking over her shoulder to observe a tired Harry Kim attempting to get sleep in the limited confines of the tree's gnarled branches.

Turning once again, she watched the angry fireworks display with detachment. First contact with this warp-capable society had gone by the book, and ended with the best possible outcome for the _Voyager _crew. After meeting with the Liratic World Congress' Off-World Affairs delegation, the away team was scheduled to take part in a guided aerial tour of all the state capitals, four total, as well as other sights deemed of importance for such an event. It was a formality of course but was designed to occupy the away team until _Voyager_ arrived in orbit from picking up the previously arranged supplies, and official shore leave rotations could be scheduled. However, the away team never made it to the third scheduled capital.

The transport shuttle was shot down. By whom or why, it was unknown to the team. All they knew was that the shuttle was bombarded with weapons fire. Events went downhill from there as the pilot, ambassador and two of the four assigned Liratic security guards were killed instantly on impact. This left only two security personnel responsible for bringing the _Voyager_ crew to safety and they took this duty very seriously.

Unfortunately, the battered and bruised group did not have long to get their bearings. The earth beneath them started to shake. One of the security guards, named Tukelt, shouted as the earth beneath his feet crumbled. The survivors were astonished and helpless as long, thin worm-like creatures – completely resistant to weapon's fire due to an exoskeleton – slithered out of the earth in a spiral and encircled the security officer. Other worms were attempting to break through the surface. The last living alien of the assigned delegation, Pu'Tuk, shouted the order to climb the closest thing that could provide some semblance of safety – a massive black tree isolated in a small clearing of mud, sickly scrub and gravel, its array of twisted branches giving it a sinister appearance.

They watched helplessly as the slender worms converged on Tukelt, wrapping themselves around his body, constricting and electrocuting him as they pulled his carcass below ground. Other worms slid around and through the downed transport, now a couple of meters away. The consoles sparked and flickered from damage sustained from the crash and the conductive properties of the massive worms that drained the power, rendering the transport and all of its contents useless.

Later, Pu'Tuk explained the nature of the deadly, thick-skinned worms, called Roe'Ki, and the macabre processes of those unfortunate enough to be snared by said creatures – slowly crushed and suffocated by the earth as jolts of electricity surged through the body. He carefully explained how the creatures resided underground and were drawn by vibrations. Pu'tuk, despite not being a native to the northern continent, shared what he knew of the infamous Roe'Ki. Legends existed of how they were believed to have supernatural powers, granting strength and untold powers to those that killed and feasted upon the flesh of the creatures as well as stories of how the Roe'Ki were allegedly used in battles – decimating the invading enemies of the southern nations.

Needless to say, the Roe'Ki were not to be taken lightly.

With no scanning equipment or survival gear, and armed with only a single hand disruptor attached to Pu'Tuk's waist, the black tree was the away team's new home until _Voyager_ came into communication range of their combadges, or a Liratic rescue team contacted Pu'Tuk.

Softly, the earth started to shake, causing the waxy, charcoal leaves of the tree to tremble violently.

Immediately, Janeway flopped onto her stomach in order to loop her limbs around the thick branch upon which she sat. She searched the ground for signs of the creatures. As the shaking became more defined and a low rumble filled the air, Janeway gave a short, loud whistle to warn the rest of the team in the tree – just in case they missed the commotion due their exhaustion. She heard with satisfaction the others looping their legs and arms around branches.

"Where are they?" called Harry Kim, one branch level up and to the left of his captain.

"I don't know." Janeway narrowed her gaze in hopes that would help her to pierce the teal fog that had developed along the ground during the night. "But it feels like they're coming in from the north." She wondered, _Driven off by the commotion from the battle field?_

Suddenly, the tree seemed to jerk violently under them, and gradually, the tremors tapered.

Kim grunted as he found himself on the underside his branch. He sighed in exasperation. "You know, I used to feel sorry for the worms that I used as bait when I went fishing as a kid." Carefully, he reclaimed his position on the top portion of the branch.

"How do you feel now, Ensign?" inquired Seven who occupied the branch next to Harry Kim. She had somehow managed to remain topside on her own perch.

"I wish somebody would have used these guys as bait." Kim smiled over at his ex-drone friend despite himself.

A few moments passed as the rumble continued to slowly fade.

"I think they're gone." Janeway spoke after everything had stilled, eyes still searching the darkness.

Not really wanting to say the words, but understanding they needed to be heard, Pu'Tuk proclaimed, "There will be more."

* * *

**[Approximately 12 hours previously…]**

First Officers' Log, Stardate: 53954.6: Voyager_'s been in orbit for a few hours now, and despite our best efforts, we've haven't located the away team or the Liratic diplomatic delegation assigned to them. No bio signs or debris from the transport have been found, and all attempts to hail them via their combadges have failed. The official assigned to be our contact has assured us that they are doing everything possible to locate our people. They're even providing regular status reports._

The sunlight had not yet ascended the mountain peaks to kiss the valley floor.

Janeway slipped down the black trunk onto the large rock pile that Kim reclined upon at the base of the tree. "Any sign of our friends?" She wiped her hands on her trousers, studying what was left of the transport wreckage as it seemed to slowly sink into the ground. Currently, it was devoid of any Roe'Ki, but the controls were obviously useless – burned and melted beyond repair. Absently, Janeway offered a hand to Seven of Nine, allowing the young woman to gain purchase on the slick rocks.

"No sign of the worms, but the battle seems to be getting closer." Kim stood up and pointed to the north. The rising smoke was indeed closer to the away team's location as compared to yesterday. "Why don't the worms go after them?"

"Good question," replied Janeway.

At that moment, Pu'Tuk tentatively dropped down onto a large boulder only five feet from his charges. "The yellow gas," he quietly offered, tossing some fruit to the three. "It seeps into the ground and causes the earth to absorb a great deal of the vibrations – giving the Roe'Ki the impression the earth is stone." Peeling open his fruit, Pu'Tuk squatted and continued, "We would be wise to avoid it." He had read reports, seen footage of people overexposed to the Roe'Ki gas.

The natural form of the yellow gas was relatively harmless to humanoids. To the worm creatures, the gas simply distorted and numbed their senses, but in recent decades, the Roe'Ki had grown immune to the natural form – leading to a deadly, manufactured gas. This was the yellow gas currently in use by the rebel faction of the northern continent and absolutely lethal to all life as it first impaired the respiratory system, and slowly numbed the nervous system. Even the briefest of exposure could eventually lead to death as the yellow gas permeated every cell, grinding all biological functions to a halt.

Absently, Janeway bit into the apple-like fruit, relieved that its juices quenched her dry throat. She studied the ground and surrounding area – blindly wiping at her mouth. The black tree that currently offered limited refuge was in a small, grassless clearing with few rocks that could offer relative safety; beyond the clearing lie thick ground foliage and a dense tree canopy. Her eyes caught the branches where Pu'Tuk had obviously harvested the apples. It was the only tree close enough….

"We can't walk out of here," she bit into the apple again, eyeing the branches leading towards the alien apple tree.

Pu'Tuk's eyes went wide as he followed Captain Janeway's gaze. "Captain, those branches would never hold our weight."

Janeway considered the various concerns, but all that was forgotten at the high pitch whining coming from the north. Her gut told her that they didn't want to be found by these rebels.

Seven of Nine peered around the edge of the black, gnarled tree trunk. "We may have no choice but to vacate." She pointed as another whining – closer this time – revealed a small canister crashing through the tree canopy to the north. A loud clank was heard as the canister apparently landed on something hard, releasing an audible hiss.

Pu'Tuk gasped, "The rebels must be searching for the transport. They're extending the gas perimeter." He pulled nervously at his collar. He wasn't a soldier. He didn't know the first thing about surviving in the Northern Wilderness.

"Alright, we're going to have to make a jump for it." The captain climbed back into the waiting arms of the tree.

"Captain?" interjected Kim, watching Janeway scurry upwards.

"But we need a direction to head in." Janeway looked down pointedly at Pu'Tuk, asking, "Which way do we go, Pu'Tuk?" She saw his nervousness, but he seemed to respond to the command in her voice.

Snapping to, the young security officer noted the stern look in the alien captain's eyes. She was not one to go without a fight. If he remembered his geography of this particular region, the best direction to go would be… "East, there should be a communication tower on the east side of the valley wall, and that'll take us away from the fighting, as well."

"East it is," nodded Janeway as she tossed the fruit's core out into the dirt. It was quickly consumed by worms.

The other three did the same before climbing back into the arms of the black tree. All eyes peered into the horizon, looking for the distant communication tower.

"There," pointed Seven of Nine. "I see a tower-like structure roughly four kilometers from our current location."

Looking around rather intently, Janeway studied the sprawling branches of the black tree, and carefully gauged the distance of open air. The apple tree was conveniently on the east side which was helpful because there was no guarantee they'd be able to see the relay tower from under the tree canopy. But like Pu'Tuk said, the slim branches that happened to span into stretching distance of the black tree would never hold their weight, though the distance was certainly jumpable. The captain climbed higher and seemed to casually walk out onto one of the older, sturdier branches as the others quickly followed suit.

Kim studied the situation, and not for the first time, he entertained the notion that his captain was indeed a little crazy. He swallowed as he looked down the long, thick branch that stretched towards the apple tree. The ultimate problem with this maneuver was that they would have to clear about two meters of open air. However, the advantage was that they were currently three meters over their target. If they made the jump, they would land hard, and the apple tree's branches didn't look very cushy.

Without much thought, Kim looked down at Seven's footwear. He raised an eyebrow, but before he could voice his concerns….

"Just do what I do."

Kim's jaw fell open as he watched Janeway bolt down the branch, propel herself off the end and disappear into the waiting arms of the apple tree. He exchanged astonished looks with Pu'Tuk as a 'next' was called out. And to Kim's amazement, Seven of Nine – in her high heels – darted down the branch. Her landing wasn't nearly as graceful as the captain's, but she made it.

With a shrug, Kim said, "Here goes."

He was scared to death, feeling as if he was running off a cliff. Kim pumped his legs hard, figuring that he needed all the momentum he could muster. His breath caught as he fought against the instinct to stop at the end of the branch. His heart hammered in his chest as he sailed through the air – not very gracefully with legs and arms flailing. There was no time to react as Kim's face was smacked with nimble little branches. It felt like being whipped, but it all stopped as his chest connected with the solid, biting surface of the tree's trunk. Dazed, Kim felt himself falling backwards, but was halted by something grabbing the front of his uniform.

"Seven, give me a hand," grunted Janeway, slowing the ensign's fall. "Are you alright, Harry?"

"Yeah," he muttered still dazed, but it quickly cleared at the sound of rustling leaves from above.

Pu'Tuk was incoming; his stomach connected hard with a branch, which he had the good sense to hold onto for dear life.

Confident everyone was stable – at least for the most part, Janeway reached out for another apple-type fruit, content to give everyone a few moments to collect their bearings. The plan was simple: reach the communications tower to the east while staying ahead of any hostiles, which happened to include wildlife, soldiers and biological weapons. She frowned, biting into the apple. The odds were not in their favor.

* * *

**[Approximately 8 hours previously…]**

Chakotay and Tuvok waited patiently for Neelix to materialize on the transporter pad. A few hours ago, _Voyager_'s ambassador had transported down in hopes of finding out any additional information, anything to explain why _Voyager_'s sensors weren't picking up the away team. Neelix's expression did not improve either man's individual outlook on the situation.

The first officer dismissed the transporter tech as Neelix stepped down from the platform. "Well?" prompted Chakotay, allowing a hint of his anxiety to show.

"I did manage to get a few details cleared up." Neelix smiled weakly, forcing an upbeat tone as he held up a PADD containing his latest findings. "Apparently, a group of isolationists that inhabit the valley on the northern continent decided to stir things up. From what I understand, these rebels – as they refer to themselves – are usually all talk with the occasional grandiose display of malcontent, but this current skirmish came out of the nowhere, taking everyone completely by surprise." Naturally, he was assured the away team would have never been taken near any possible hostile locations, but that wouldn't soothe the commander. It certainly did nothing to calm Neelix.

Crew morale had been shifty as of late what with the mysterious dealings with Kes, the two week struggle to locate a marooned B'Elanna Torres and Harry Kim, the dubious resurrection of Ensign Lyndsay Ballard, and Seven of Nine being forced to fight in the Tsunkatse tournaments. The list of unfortunate events went on and on for the _Voyager_ crew. Neelix almost missed the simple adventures of strange spatial anomalies of days long past. All those misadventures could be taken in stride; however, when the captain was missing or injured, the crew didn't mess around. Chakotay and Tuvok wouldn't settle for anything less than focused professionalism and perfection.

"So I take it the Liratic feel the transport went down in this valley?" Chakotay clenched his jaw. The state of affairs did not bode well. _Voyager_ was essentially blind, and the crew was starting to become restless at the inaction. However, it was the not knowing the away team's status that amplified the situation.

Neelix gestured absently with the PADD. "According to their findings, it's the only logical and realistic conclusion." He tried not to shudder as he remembered viewing the footage of the Roe'Ki.

"Were you able to obtain any information explaining the ineffectiveness of our sensors?" Tuvok asked.

Nodding, Neelix handed the PADD to Tuvok, who immediately accessed the device. "Yes, actually, between natural elements indigenous to that particular mountain range and a bio-chemical agent used against some unique wildlife called Roe'Ki, the valley is virtually a sensor dead zone. The only means of communicating with the inhabitants are through a series of relay towers on the valley perimeter."

Waiting for Tuvok to pass the PADD, Chakotay continued to question Neelix. "Did they give us permission to send in a rescue team?" He couldn't accept that there was nothing they could do other than wait.

"Not really." Neelix furrowed his brows, knowing this next part wasn't going to be received well. "However, they did stress – quite adamantly – that their extraction teams were more than capable of retrieving any survivors." After a brief pause, he continued, "They seem genuinely concerned over our crew's welfare, Commander, and don't want to see anyone else get hurt." The words sounded hollow.

"Perhaps we can boost our scanner resolution via the communication relay towers." Tuvok continued his quick appraisal of the PADD.

"That was suggested since _Voyager_ has more advanced sensors, but right before I was about to contact the ship, the relay system was reduced to emergency power status."

"By whom?" inquired Tuvok, glancing up from the PADD.

"The rebel forces disengaged the relay's power source in the valley. Liratic intelligence has suggested that the rebels have located the wreckage and are currently tracking the survivors."

Of course, the rebels still had access to the relay system thanks to emergency short-range communication equipment undoubtedly in use and adapted by their soldiers. These devices were designed specifically for the valley as they also scrambled the communication signals, making it virtually impossible to intercept and decrypt the transmissions within a reasonable amount of time. All of this was documented in the PADD, and Neelix knew it was only a matter of time before the issue was addressed.

Chakotay rested his hands on his hips as he took a step away from Neelix and Tuvok. Staring at the deck, he thought for a few moments. "So, the Liratic expect us to sit on our hands."

"There's a great deal of information here regarding the variables unique to the valley. We may be able to recalibrate our sensors to compensate for the various disturbances." Tuvok passed the PADD to Chakotay. The modifications would take hours, if not days, which could mean life or death for the away team.

As the pair turned from him, Neelix added hastily, "The Liratic are utilizing every means possible to locate our people, Commanders. They're even attempting a visual search via surveillance satellites, but with the thick tree canopies covering a majority of territory…." It was a long shot for sure, but these people were trying their best to help. Neelix honestly believed they wanted to do right by the _Voyager_ crew.

Chakotay gave a brisk nod and continued out into the corridor with Tuvok and Neelix in tow. "Let's assemble the senior staff. I want options and the ability to take action when the moment arrives."

* * *

**[Approximately 2 hours previously…]**

"Perhaps Starfleet should upgrade their uniforms to formfitting dermaplastic garments."

Ensign Kim caught the rather dirty look his captain gave Seven of Nine. If he wasn't so damned tired, achy and thirsty, he would have made some humorous remark, but that part of his brain had shut off a while ago. Sweat ran down the sides of his face, soaked the front and back of his tunic, and his toes felt wrinkled from the moisture trapped in his boots. He desperately wanted to shed his jacket, but alas, they couldn't take the chance of alerting the pursuing rebel squad; and it did help protect them from the trees' rough bark.

Pu'Tuk had assured the _Voyager_ crewmembers that whoever was attempting to locate them would take a suitable amount of time to study the transport wreckage before it was completely sucked underground. Also, he insisted that the _Voyager_ away team keep moving to the communication tower as he secured a hidden watch post just within visual range of the transport. Of course, the navy and crimson Liratic uniforms would be easily recognizable from such a distance, whereas the bland, black and grey garb of the rebels would blend. There was only a slim chance they would be friendly, and Pu'Tuk's continued absence confirmed the soldiers' identity.

His plan was to take up station on the west side of the black tree and observe. If they were friendly, he would immediately apprise them of the situation. If they were hostiles, Pu'Tuk would attempt to draw them away from his charges. Naturally, this didn't go over too well with Captain Janeway, but she couldn't talk the man out of performing his duty; and Pu'Tuk took his assignments _very_ seriously. He also stressed that there might not be a better opportunity to offer protection or resistance. As such, they had better make good time to reach the relay tower.

The trio managed to cover roughly three kilometers through the canopy before Seven mentioned that she heard possible small-arm weapons fire. It was a difficult and time consuming trek, but the close proximity of the trees allowed for efficient travel time and adequate coverage. Occasionally, one of them would drop something onto the ground to confirm if the Roe'Ki were still lingering, which they were.

Now, as they dangled in the branches of a tree on the forest's edge, the away team considered the current obstacle – a thirty meter expanse of dirt and gravel covered with sparse scrub and a few broken boulders here and there. The worms seemed to play in the loose, unrestricted soil as they slithered up and down, in and out of the earth much like dolphins in an ocean. The away team couldn't leap frog to the rocky hillside, and they certainly couldn't make a run for it.

Again, Kim craned his neck to look down the length of the gaping, treeless expanse. It traveled forever, at least as far as his eyes were concerned, but here they were sitting at the base of their potential escape. However, even if they traveled south to a spot where they could cross the expanse, they couldn't make it back along the hillside to the relay tower. The hillside turned into a sheer cliff about twenty meters from their current position, and it was unclear whether or not they could circle back to the relay tower from the other side – even if the other side could be traversed. As far as heading north, there was nothing to indicate that would be any more fruitful.

Sighing, Kim didn't have anything useful to suggest to his captain, and he wasn't in any hurry to come up with a solution. Sitting still had never felt so good to his sore body.

The situation was indeed dire, as they had also passed the last fruit-bearing tree an hour ago.

Janeway was about to make a judgment call to head south when a familiar high-pitch whine sailed overhead. She tracked the sound and watched as a canister cleared the canopy. The black canister slammed into one of the broken boulders with a resounding clang as yellow gas hissed free. Instantly, the worms reacted, making it seem as if the earth was rolling away from the gas.

All three watched as the gas shifted lightly in the almost nonexistent breeze. Once the canister was depleted, the yellow gas seemed to settle relatively close to the ground. Another canister landed a few dozen meters to the north then another to the south.

"We're going to go through the gas," Janeway said sliding down the tree trunk. By this time, the gas had rolled back into the forest. Was that gas mingling with the dense foliage further back? In her exhaustion, Janeway really wasn't sure and she didn't want to waste time debating it.

"Captain, would that be wise?" Seven of Nine quickly followed. She hadn't let Janeway out of her sight since beaming down almost two days ago. If Seven was feeling the effects of their journey now, she knew Janeway and Kim had to be near collapse. They might not make it up the steep incline to their objective.

"If we move slowly, we may not stir the gas up too badly, thereby limiting our exposure," the captain rationalized out loud. It was a long shot, but these canisters were a good sign that a group of rebel soldiers were not far behind them. They also needed time to access the communications equipment in the tower.

Taking a tentative step forward, Janeway watched the yellow gas shift around her calves, seeming to cling to her trousers. A putrid scent wafted up as she took yet another step. The scent seeped into her nostrils as she continued onward, creating a slight burning sensation. Resisting the urge to dry heave, Janeway pressed carefully to a small group of broken boulders. Once in range, she scrambled on top of one in hopes of gaining access to fresh air.

"Oh, that was nasty," Kim muttered as he climbed another boulder.

Seven was about to retort when she saw movement in the forest. Instantly, she clamored for her captain, dragging her down into the protective arms of the broken stones. This action unfortunately caused the gas to stir, rising higher into the air.

"Seven?" Janeway croaked out, but was overtaken by a coughing fit. Her throat continued to burn as her eyes started to water from the stinging irritation.

Suddenly, a disrupter blast hit the boulder next to Kim. The ensign dived down into the boulder enclave, triggering even more gas to swirl about them. He was hit with a bout of nausea when another blast was fired.

Peering through the gas, Janeway spotted three rebel soldiers wearing black and grey uniforms and gas masks moving out of the foliage towards the boulders. They couldn't stay hidden there much longer. With silent gestures, the captain indicated her plan. She and Kim would occupy the soldiers while Seven ran for the relay tower.

The sound of a rock hitting a boulder to the north diverted the rebels' attention just as they came to the away team's location. As they rotated in search of the disturbance, Seven and Kim successfully smacked rocks alongside two of the soldiers' heads resulting in them falling onto the ground – losing their disrupters in the gas. Janeway launched another rock at the third soldier causing him to drop his weapon.

At that moment, Seven turned and bolted towards the hill, obscured from view by the broken boulders.

The third fumbled to retrieve his rifle from the cover of the yellow gas. Eventually, he located it and angrily dashed into the boulder enclave when he didn't see his assailants. As he turned into the protected cache, Kim grabbed the soldier from behind, but was slammed into a boulder, losing his grip. Janeway landed a solid punch in the rebel's stomach, forcing him to stumble away a few feet in a daze. It was then that a fourth rebel rushed into the mix, driving his fist hard between Janeway's shoulder blades. The sudden force of the blow knocked the wind out of the captain, making her tumble down into the gradually dissipating gas.

* * *

**[…Now]**

"_Seven of Nine to _Voyager._"_

"_Voyager_ here," responded Chakotay, stiffly standing up from his command chair. "What's your status, Seven?" Unable to contain his nervousness, he was driven to pace around the command deck but managed to remain relatively immobile, only twisting to briefly catch the eyes of the crew manning the various stations. They, in turn, watched him and reflected the First Officer's mixture of apprehension and relief.

"_The away team requires immediate transport to Sickbay."_

"Standby." With the channel closed, Chakotay turned towards Tuvok, waiting for the transport to be completed.

"Transport complete, Commander." Tuvok glanced up from his console as Chakotay make a beeline for the turbolift.

"You have the Bridge, Tuvok." With that said, Chakotay whisked himself down to Sickbay. He could have – or more accurately – should have given the bridge to one of the junior officers, allowing Tuvok to join him. Stepping into Sickbay, Chakotay silently reaffirmed his vow to control his tendencies of habit and make good on his resolution on becoming a better XO.

Of course, old habits always died hard.

Chakotay was forcing himself to be content in watching the flurry of action unfold before him, attempting to self-assess the away team's status until the Doctor could brief him.

The holographic Doctor briskly ordered Paris to scan Ensign Kim, who had been placed on biobed 1 and Seven of Nine, who stood rigid by the medical console. All the while, he attended to the captain in the surgical bay – scanning, cleaning, preparing. With an intense vigilance, the Doctor listened as Paris took and relayed the readings of Ensign Kim, taking careful note of the differences in the nervous system degradation.

"Interesting," he muttered, glancing at Paris long enough to see him move to scan Seven of Nine. Theories were beginning to form as the Doctor assessed the information provided to him from the scans, cross-referencing it with the data from the Liratic government obtained by Neelix as well as Seven's firsthand knowledge which she had provided to the Doctor and Lt. Paris upon her arrival in Sickbay. Immediately, the EMH returned his attention to Janeway's readings and silently re-evaluated the sample of neutralizing compound supplied by the Liratic field medic, who in his infinite wisdom didn't delay in administering it to the away team.

_If only I had more time to study the Roe'Ki in further detail_, he mused adjusting the surgical bed's instrument panel, temporarily placing Janeway on cardiopulmonary support. He heaved a sigh of relief as the captain seemed to stabilize, safely removing her from any immediate danger. Operating contrary to standard medical procedure, the doctor decided that the wisest course of action was to first treat Harry Kim and Seven of Nine as his initial triage revealed that they had incurred less cellular damage from their exposure to the neurotoxin. The successful treatment of her crewmembers could provide the answers necessary to treat the captain who remained unresponsive due to her more severe condition. The EMH was flying by the seat of his holographic pants, but everyone_ was _stable.

Barking out for Paris to fetch an anti-inflammatory, the Doctor stopped his preparations for Janeway's surgery long enough to slap a small vile into a hypo-spray. Passing it on to the lieutenant, the EMH instructed the helmsman to inject 20ccs of the counter-agent into Kim followed by 10ccs of the anti-inflammatory. Quickly doing so, Paris repeated his scans, indicating no change in the ensign. The hologram ordered an increase of dosage by 10ccs of the developed counter-agent. Again, Paris scanned Kim, quite pleased with conveying the positive results. Giving a nod in affirmation, the Doctor instructed Paris to administer 20ccs along with the anti-inflammatory to Seven of Nine.

Currently, the compound had only managed to stop any further metabolizing of the yellow gas, and in fact, had not shown any evidence of countering the side effects, as it did amongst the Liratic. This concerned the Doctor greatly. Both Ensign Kim and Captain Janeway's bodies were under great duress, and although stable – at the moment – were not out of the woods yet. However, the EMH was extremely optimistic that the synthesized neural stimulant he had begun developing several hours ago was indeed on the right track to reversing the effects of the yellow gas which had turned out to be a rather potent neurotoxin.

"Harry and Seven both appear to be stable and responding well to treatment, Doctor." Tom Paris stepped up between the surgical bed and instrument tray, ready to assist. Realizing Janeway was still in her boots, he snapped into motion to remove them, tossing them into a bin to be recycled later.

"Seven, report," barked Chakotay, pulling her attention to him now that the Doctor seemed finished with treating her. "What the hell happened?"

Seven of Nine briefly glanced at the first officer before allowing her gaze to sweep over Kim, Paris, the Doctor and to finally rest again on the unconscious captain. Almost absently, she gave an exposition of the events leading them to this moment. Her voice was a calm quiet. Her tone and inflections, although precise and cold, conveyed an unfamiliar rawness, both to herself and to Chakotay.

Meanwhile, the EMH returned his full attention to the captain. Paris had already confirmed that the anti-inflammatory wasn't adversely interacting with the synthesized counter-agent, or the Liratic stop-gap measure provided by the field medic. Calculating the proper dosage for Janeway's weight and degree of exposure (as deduced from the readings of Kim and Seven), the Doctor dutifully trudged forward on healing the captain.

After injecting the counter-agent, he checked the readings. Janeway was responding to the treatment, and the Doctor removed her from support as he repaired cellular and tissue damage. As in Kim and Seven, the yellow gas had negated the ion channel conductance, inhibiting the synapses from firing, thus forcing the body to slowly shut down. This of course wasn't the outcome the gas had on the Roe'Ki, but that was beside the point and ultimately unimportant as it was the effects on humanoids that concerned the Doctor.

"Can you give me a status report now, Doctor?" Chakotay moved away from Seven, closer to the surgical bay, but careful to remain out of the way.

While passing and accepting equipment from Paris, the Doctor said, "As we discussed this possibility during the briefing, the away team has been exposed to a respiratory neurotoxin in the form of a gas, and from the data provided by the Liratic, it seems to have a two prong attack for humanoids. The first is through the point of entry – affecting the mouth, nasal cavity, throat and lungs. Second, as the gas is metabolized into the system, motor and sensory functions become impaired."

Swallowing, Chakotay nodded as the severity of the situation settled onto his broad shoulders. Of course, it would be too easy if everything worked out just because the away team was back aboard. He glanced over at Kim and swiveled back to see Seven of Nine standing a silent vigil at the medical console. Chakotay's nervous perusal of sickbay's occupants was interrupted by the incessant beeping coming from the occupied surgical bed.

Paris hopped back, managing to avoid the EMH as he barreled around to view the readings.

"Cortical stimulator!" barked the Doctor. "Apply a twenty millijoule pulse on my mark – now." Seeing no improvement in synapse function but understanding what was happening, the hologram reached for a neural stimulator. There was no way they could jumpstart a fused nervous system as the reduced ion channel conductance kept the nerve synapses from even firing, but they may be able to regenerate some of the damage. The holographic Doctor paused for a moment, looking up at Chakotay. His voice softened as he continued, "You need to leave _now_, Commander."

With meticulous skill, the Doctor sliced up the left leg through Janeway's trousers and undergarments. That action was quickly followed by an equally skilled slice up the front center of the uniform jacket and any additional layers. "Seven, we could use your help." The EMH gestured for Paris and Seven to prepare to roll Janeway over in order to give him total access to the captain's central nervous system.

Immediately, Seven of Nine was maneuvering into position to offer optimal assistance.

Uncertain of what to do or what was really going on, Chakotay asked, "Doctor?" His eyes were drawn to the burnt fabric covering Janeway's lumbar region.

"Commander, you need to leave – now!" snapped the Doctor, not having time to hold anyone's hand. Once Janeway was flipped and secure, he sliced apart the uniform from the back. The uniform was quickly and efficiently removed by his assistants.

Hesitantly, Chakotay took a step back towards the Sickbay pneumatic door. He caught the hurried flash of a Starfleet uniform being tossed into a bin on the far side of the surgical bay, and the reflective gleam of a dermaplastic blanket being drawn over the surgical bed.

In all these years with all these close calls, Chakotay never remembered being this scared. Without another thought, the XO returned to the Bridge. Next visit to Sickbay, he would be sure to bring Tuvok with him.

With inhuman steadiness, the Doctor selectively stimulated areas related to autonomic functions. He had to get the captain breathing on her own and quickly. During his earlier research, the EMH had surmised that this particular complication was certainly a fatal possibility, given the technical specifications of the disrupter weapons used by the rebels. If she was entering respiratory distress now, it was only a matter of time before other systems followed, leading to a cascade failure, and life support wouldn't matter if she was brain dead.

If holograms could sweat, the Doctor knew he would be right then. He stood up straight, put down the neural stimulator and ran a diagnostic wand from a medical tricorder over the captain.

Clearing his throat, the EMH proudly exclaimed, "She's stable . . . again."

Putting down his equipment, he aided Paris in repositioning the blanket over Janeway. There was still some nerve regeneration to stimulate in addition to treating her other injuries, but her body needed time to rest before another bout of surgery.

A few moments of silence passed before the Doctor turned to Seven. "You need to regenerate for at least eight hours, Seven. No exceptions. Report to Sickbay for a follow-up exam after your cycle is complete." Without another word, he disappeared into his office as he was already preparing for the next surgery which would have to be as soon as possible.

Tom Paris had started the expected cleanup. Words could not articulate the relief he felt. Not only was one of his best friends laid up, but so was his captain. After returning the various pieces of equipment to their proper storage compartments, he lifted the bin containing Janeway's discarded uniform. Riffling through the shreds of fabric, Paris found the tunic with the four pips and plucked them off, along with the captain's combadge. Only when they were safely cradled in his hand did he notice Seven of Nine still standing next to the surgical bed.

"Go get some rest, Seven," Paris instructed lightly. "She's going to be alright."

Before Paris could walk off, all Seven could manage to say was, "The Captain…."

Stopping and turning, Paris set the bin on the instrument cart. He didn't know Seven well, but he did know her better than most, except for possibly Janeway and the Doctor. In this moment, Paris was starting to see what the captain might have seen all along. He swallowed, unsure of what to say but knowing _something_ had to be said. "If her status changes, I'll come get you personally."

Seven simply nodded and left Sickbay.

* * *

First Officer's Log: Stardate 53957.2: Voyager_'s currently on route back to the Liratic supply depot. It's an uncontested system, and I've put in a formal request to maintain an extended orbital stay at the depot – to see to repairs and general R&R on ship before continuing our journey. The Liratic have been a most generous people as my request was approved before we even left orbit of their home-world. Hopefully, this will be enough time for the Doctor to get Ensign Kim and Captain Janeway back on their feet – it would also help calm the crew's frazzled nerves._

"Can you revive the captain or Harry?" asked Chakotay as he stepped into the surgical bay, getting a close-up look at his captain, who now lay on her back under a dermaplastic blanket. He could count the number of times she'd been injured beyond a quick patch job – twice. Three years ago during the alliance with the Borg, and six months before that after their shuttle crashed on an uninhabited moon.

"No."

The absolute answer forced the First Officer to look up at the holographic Doctor as he attended to Seven of Nine where she sat on biobed 3. Chakotay nodded in acknowledgement. He and Tuvok exchanged glances briefly as he walked towards Kim.

The Vulcan had planted himself beside the medical console, out of Chakotay's pacing path from the surgical bay to the Sickbay pneumatic doors. Chakotay had completed two full circuits before stopping in the surgical bay prior to speaking. Observing the Doctor as he continued his adjustments to Seven's optical implant, Tuvok asked, "Has Seven retained any adverse effects from her experience?" It didn't go unnoticed by Tuvok that Seven's gaze repeatedly returned to the captain. Her depth of concern may need to be addressed.

In his typical clipped yet chipper voice, the EMH smiled as he answered Tuvok's question by speaking directly to Seven. "No, you have a clean bill of health and can return to duty – once I finish these minor adjustments." The Doctor paused while swapping tools.

Chakotay stood over Harry Kim and sighed. He wasn't doing very well keeping his emotions in check or keeping his objectivity. This entire situation had rattled and irritated him. He was a former Maquis who was supposed to be tough as nails, take no prisoners. And here he was shaking in his boots because two people he cared deeply for had taken a walk to Death's Door. Mentally, Chakotay snapped himself out of it. No amount of lamenting was going to correct the situation.

"Are you prepared to give us an update on their conditions, Doctor?" inquired Tuvok. After all, the sooner they were briefed, the sooner the Doctor could resume treatment and ship's function could return to relative normalcy.

"Yes, Commander," he nodded. With a bit of a flourish, the Doctor finished the adjustments to Seven's optical implant and started to secure his instruments while giving the commanders his report.

As he was just indicating, Seven of Nine was clear for duty. Her nanoprobes – in tandem with the Liratic stop-gap measure and the EMH's counter-agent had effectively repaired all damage sustained from the neurotoxin. It was the Doctor's hopes that her nanoprobes could also help expedite the others' recovery as well.

Naturally, Seven offered her complete cooperation while Chakotay approved it.

Going on, the Doctor described the successful treatment of Ensign Kim but stressed that his body would undoubtedly need time to recover from the shock to his system – explaining the necessity for sedation and the blatant refusal to revive him. The EMH continued, advising them that Kim would require several days of light physical therapy to help his body work through the expected mild numbness as well as any lingering motor or sensory deficiencies.

Tuvok inquired about a time table for Kim's recovery. The Doctor believed Kim could return to full, active duty inside a week. This news gave Chakotay a bit of optimism for Janeway's plight, but that soon melted away as a dark look seemed to drift across the hologram's features.

"The Captain's situation is a bit more . . . precarious."

"Explain," demanded Seven. She had been standing in her usual ramrod straight pose, slightly out of the tight circle of men.

Seeing Seven's intense look, the Doctor walked around the medical console, putting some distance between himself and the others. "Frankly, it's amazing she's even alive." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them, but quickly pressed forward. "From my research, the captain's elevated exposure; the degree of which her body metabolized the neurotoxin coupled with the disrupter blast to her spinal cord – directly connecting with her CNS – should have instantly killed her. We're lucky the Liratic field medic applied their stop-gap measure when he did…."

"Why didn't the blast kill her?" asked Chakotay, leaning heavily on the console.

"Luck." Clearing his throat, the Doctor turned to look at Janeway, the various looks from his audience becoming a bit overwhelming. "As far as I can tell, the neurotoxin had impaired her system to such an extent that when she was hit, the energy blast simply couldn't travel through her system, resulting in severe tissue damage at the point of impact. In short, the captain would've required the same regimen as Mr. Kim, just perhaps a few additional days; but with this extensive physical devastation to her nervous system, I'm unable to give an accurate estimate. However, with the nanoprobes and further surgery, I'm confident that she'll make at least an eighty-percent recovery."

His eyes widened slightly as Chakotay rasped out, "Eighty-percent recovery of what, exactly?"

The EMH took a slow fortifying breath. It was funny the things one learned from organic creatures. "The degree of mobility she'll regain in her legs."

* * *

Chief Medical Officer's Log, Supplemental: _It's been a long and difficult road, but Ensign Kim and Captain Janeway have responded well to the nanoprobe therapy. Mr. Kim has been happily recovering in his own quarters for the last two days, and I'm certain after his follow-up exam this afternoon, he'll be clear for full active duty. Thankfully, _Voyager_ remained in orbit of the Liratic supply depot long enough for me to perform the Captain's second surgery, which happens to be a resounding success. I expect the Captain to wake up naturally in another day or so._

Stiff.

That's how Captain Janeway felt as she fought the fog of sleep. Lying still for a moment as she got her bearings, she listened to the familiar, calming hum of _Voyager_. Following several slow blinks – each time wincing at the brightness, Janeway opened her eyes. She rolled her head to the right and left, scanning the empty Sickbay catching sight of the Doctor humming cheerfully in his office. She grimaced at the sour taste in her mouth as she swallowed. Her limbs felt like lead pipes, heavy and bulky.

She attempted to call for the Doctor, but the only sound that emerged was a strangled squeak. Janeway waited, but the Doctor obviously did not hear her as he erupted into song. Sighing, she pushed herself onto her elbows. She felt better now, felt as if maybe she could fetch the Doctor herself. Rolling on to her left side, Janeway tried to slide her legs off the side, but just as she realized something wasn't right, her entire body pitched over the edge of the biobed and crumpled onto the deck.

Confused, Janeway glanced down at her legs, and willed them to move. Nothing happened. She willed her feet then her toes to move, again nothing happened – at first – but a strange tingle traveled from the base of her spine down her thighs, through her calves and into the bottom of her feet. It was like a thousand ants marching in her muscles. The drive to shake her legs became maddening. The more she tried to move her legs, the more intense the marching ant feeling became in her unresponsive limbs. She gripped onto the biobed with one hand then the other. Once both hands had a firm hold, Janeway proceeded to attempt pulling herself up.

She managed to pull herself up partly, her hands now firmly gripping the other side of the biobed mattress. "Doctor!" Janeway barked, her voice finally working but sounding . . . off.

"Captain!" The Doctor hooked his arms under Janeway, and maneuvered her back onto the bed. "Why didn't you call me when you woke up?" Once Janeway was secure, he opened a tricorder and scanned the captain with the diagnostic wand.

"I did," she glared. Her voice was rough and thick. "My legs aren't responding, and they feel like ants are parading through them."

"Interesting…. Mr. Kim mentioned a mild discomfort when he woke up, but his scans didn't indicate this much neural activity." This was indeed a good sign, but his pleasure was short lived as the Doctor was taken by surprise when Janeway grabbed the front of his uniform.

"Doctor," she growled, "it's driving me crazy!"

"Of course, Captain, but I can't administer a neural suppressant, not until I determine the cause of the activity." He slid a hand around the bottom of Janeway's bare foot while cupping his other hand under her upper thigh. Already, the EMH was working on formulating reasons for the neural surge, but he needed to calm the patient down before running more scans. "This may do the trick. Try to help me perform the motion." Carefully, the Doctor lifted the leg, forced the knee to bend to a ninety degree angle, and returned to the previous position. This was repeated several times until the captain's breathing slowed. Switching to the other leg, he asked, "Does that seem to be helping?"

"Yes," she admitted, her tone laced with relief.

Completing the impromptu physical therapy, the Doctor rescanned Janeway. "Good, my theory was correct then. If we continue with physical therapy, you'll have limited motor function back in a week or so, depending on how quickly your body regenerates its neural pathways." He was quite pleased with himself as he set down the tricorder; however, his smile faded when he looked at his captain.

That's when the questions started.

At first, the Doctor sought to answer his captain's questions about _Voyager_ – even offered to contact Chakotay after a few tests – but Janeway became increasingly more agitated at her inability to move her legs. Or more accurately, she didn't appreciate the Doctor's assistance while she tried to settle herself. This of course, was to be expected since she was a fiercely independent individual.

The captain's rabid litany of questions abruptly shifted to her own medical status (since it was clear ship and crew were safe), which naturally flowed into the topic of prognosis and rehabilitation. Calmly, the EMH covered all avenues of treatment, adding quick side comments dismissing why certain procedures were simply not available or practical in regards to _Voyager_'s situation and resources. He had just about hit his limit when he noticed her universe-be-damned expression. In a matter of fifteen minutes, Captain Janeway had resigned herself to her fate, sort of, or at least as far as the EMH was concerned.

"So I'm stuck here," Janeway grumbled, a scowl firmly entrenched on her features.

The Doctor smiled broadly, foolishly believing that he had successfully cornered the captain into submission. "Only for the time being, Captain. After we complete a few physical therapy sessions and additional testing, I'll be able to develop a neural stimulant to help enhance your body's natural recovery."

* * *

**[Approximately 48 hours later…]**

With the business of normal ship's operations finished, Chakotay rose and stood at the head of the briefing table. He was privately pleased with the lack of excitement given the latest twist in _Voyager_'s state of affairs. It provided ample opportunity for the captain to get back on her feet – literally. "We have something else to discuss. Tuvok?"

Nodding at the XO, Tuvok casually swiveled his chair to face the other senior officers, Neelix and Seven of Nine. "Yesterday, we received a secure communiqué from Liratic Intelligence indicating possible acts of piracy in the current and surrounding sectors of space. Until recently, these raiders have maintained substantial distance from heavily populated areas with a strong government presence or from ships of considerable firepower."

"Pirates?" asked Torres, cutting a dubious glance at Paris.

"As whimsical as it may seem, Lieutenant, the Liratic feel that these pirates may provide significant resistance to _Voyager_ as we traverse this sector of space."

Mildly intrigued by the prospect of real space pirates, Paris leaned forward, resting his elbows on the briefing table. "Why are the Liratic just now telling us about these guys, and don't these types normally go for the easy targets?" In the helmsman's opinion, the USS _Voyager_ was not an easy target – alone or not.

"Unless the bounty is deemed worth the risk," added Neelix.

"Indeed," Tuvok agreed. "According to the provided intelligence, _Voyager_ has been marked as a target."

Still not quite believing the scenario as it all seemed too surreal coming from Tuvok, Torres said, "I have a feeling there's a connection you haven't explained to us yet." It was like one of Tom's cheesy Holodeck programs: Captain Proton and the Pirates from Space!

"You're correct." Tuvok replied. "According to the report, the rebel forces responsible for shooting down the away team's transport have been aligned with and feeding information to the raiders of this sector for an undetermined amount of time. Evidence supports that information regarding _Voyager_ was provided to this group by the Northern continent's World Congress representatives."

"That's pretty much all we got," interjected Chakotay. "The Liratic offered to provide more information as it's available. Hopefully, we'll just get through this sector and out of harm's way as quickly as possible." He and Tuvok both had reservations over the entire situation and had discussed it in length before approaching the captain late last night, much to the Doctor's dismay.

"Have the claims of piracy been validated?" asked Seven of Nine.

Tuvok answered, "No, but it would be prudent to err on the side of caution given that we are uncertain of the variables." The situation seemed a little too neat of a package for the Vulcan security chief. Even though the circumstances weren't anything new to _Voyager_ – out in the Delta Quadrant as someone usually wanted a piece of them for one reason or another, the crew simply assumed it was for the usual reasons as well.

"If the pirates do operate in this sector, I'm sure it's only a matter of time before we cross them or someone they raided," Neelix shrugged. It was an ugly truth for certain, but he hoped that any surviving ships wouldn't open fire first and ask questions later, given this crew's propensity to offer aid and thus find trouble.

"Did Liratic Intelligence offer any specifications about the ships used by the pirates?" Seven asked, searching for an edge. With Captain Janeway unavailable to lead, the ship's chances for survival were significantly reduced.

"Nothing conclusive," Tuvok said.

"Wonderful, the Liratic tell us to look over our shoulder, but can't tell us who we're looking out for?" Paris leaned back in his seat.

"At least they warned us. They could've let us find out the hard way," countered Kim.

"True." Paris thought for a moment. "But why did they wait to tell us _after_ we left their system? I'm sure they knew where we were heading, and by default that we would be going through pirate land."

Tuvok raised an eyebrow to Chakotay. He had vocalized similar concerns last night as did the captain.

"That's the interesting part of this development. Until recently, Liratic Intelligence had absolutely no reason to believe that the rebels on their home-world and the pirates were connected." The XO rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand as his mind drifted back to the intelligence report. "Either way, let's not allow them to catch us unawares and if that's all…." Chakotay nodded his dismissal.

"Commander, if I may," the Doctor interjected before anyone could stand. "Perhaps the Captain could have work sent to Sickbay. Some reports to review or inventories to peruse while she's recuperating? Preferably something that will take several _hours_ to complete."

Of course, Janeway was officially on off-duty medical leave, and technically, the first officer should be assuming all of said captain's duties. However, that bit of protocol had never stopped _Voyager_'s stalwart leader before, so why would it now?

Chakotay raised an eyebrow, but it was Tom Paris who responded, albeit a bit gleefully. "Is this your way of saying the Captain is a difficult patient?" Much to his amusement, Paris had been privy to some of the heated bantering between the Doctor and the Captain during his routine duty shift in sickbay.

Rolling his eyes, the Doctor frowned. "Let's just say she's only made one unsuccessful escape attempt today." He understood Sickbay wasn't the most exciting place to be, most patients were released to quarters before restlessness could become an issue, but he couldn't shake the impression that the captain was purposefully pressing his buttons – even if Janeway's options were extremely limited.

Nodding, Chakotay dismissed the senior staff. "I'll drop by after I gather up some 'busy' work for the Captain."

"Thank you, Commander."

Paris smirked as he trotted out to the helm. His next shift in Sickbay would undoubtedly be interesting.

* * *

"This is supposed to keep me quiet." Janeway narrowed her eyes at her First Officer. "The Doctor complained about me in the briefing, didn't he?" She absently shuffled through the PADDs. She had been moved from the surgical bay and was now resting on a regular biobed, propped up by four large pillows. The somewhat heated argument over the amount of pillows currently supporting the captain's back would have been an entertaining squabble, if anyone had born witness to it.

"Well," Chakotay shrugged, "he did drop a few colorful hints." He paused then, taking on a soft expression. "I know you're not happy, Kathryn, but please don't _try_ to irritate the Doctor. There's nothing on sensors, anomaly or otherwise, so we shouldn't have any problems for the next few weeks. Engineering has just about completed their repairs, and the crew has started to settle in for a quiet ride to the next system." Chakotay offered Janeway a bright smile as he added, "Let them relax."

Dropping the PADDs on an equipment cart, placed next to the biobed curtsey of Lt. Paris, Janeway gave a dramatic sigh. "I'll try, Commander."

It was then that Seven stepped through the pneumatic doors making her way towards the Doctor's office announcing in her clipped tones, "I am here for my weekly maintenance, Doctor." She turned, and noticed Janeway reclining on the biobed with Chakotay standing beside her. "Captain, Commander," she acknowledged with a slight nod, walking past.

Dutifully, the EMH followed Seven of Nine to the surgical bed with a medical tricorder in hand. He passed the diagnostic wand over Seven and smiled pleasantly. "Everything seems to be in working order, Seven. There don't seem to be any lasting effects from your planet-side adventure."

"Thank you, Doctor." Seven slid off the biobed and wandered over to the captain. "It is good to see you are . . . feeling better, Captain."

She was a bit apprehensive over how to handle this particular situation, knowing the captain's usual outlook on Sickbay. Since her own recovery, Seven had been all too aware of the idle chatter about Ensign Kim and Captain Janeway – the mutual encouragement expressed over their speedy recovery, and the worry concerning the captain's continued injury.

The captain gave Seven a rueful look, replying, "That's a matter of opinion." At Seven's raised eyebrow, she added, "But thank you, Seven. Apparently, I'm going to be confined to Sickbay for the foreseeable future, unless the Doctor in his infinite wisdom would release me to quarters." She leaned around Seven of Nine to glare at the Doctor.

Unfortunately, Janeway's physical condition was still a bit up-in-the-air. Through a battery of additional tests followed by a good, old-fashioned tactile examination with patient feedback, the EMH had been able to refine the nanoprobe therapy and the neural stimulants, both of which were beginning to take effect but were slow-acting. In a matter of two days, the captain had gone from total numbness to registering near bruising pressure in various tests.

With a giant sigh, the Doctor rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. "We've been through this already, Captain. I will not release you to quarters unless you have someone who can help you, and I'm not available 24/7. Frankly, I don't know of anyone who _you_ would allow to assist with daily tasks, so it's a moot point."

"I'm sure something could be arranged."

"Like what? Would you be willing to allow a crewmember help you dress? Whoever would be assisting you would have to be strong enough to lift and maneuver you as needed, Captain." He raised an eyebrow at Janeway while crossing his arms over his chest.

The optimal physical therapy regimen would have been to immediately release Janeway directly to Starfleet Medical on Earth. As it was, certain pieces of medical equipment weren't cleared for use on Intrepid-class starships, such as the anti-gravity chairs. The one class of anti-gravity chair that was cleared would have taken a considerable amount of time as well as resources to construct. Even then, the power requirement for such a piece of equipment would have been an unacceptable expenditure to the captain herself but not another crewman. Although the EMH also discussed the possible use of a traditional wheelchair, he strongly discouraged it because of the unpredictable nature of space travel, and with Janeway's current weakened physical state, it could pose an even greater danger to further injury. In the end, it was the Doctor's impassioned plea that eventually ruled out use of any chairs.

Privately, the Doctor was counting on Captain Janeway's stubbornness and determination to propel herself into becoming mobile again with the assistance of a standard tritanium cane. Considering how her body continued to respond to the nanoprobe and physical therapy, the EMH predicted in his logs that Janeway could regain limited mobility in roughly a week. Once the captain did regain that degree of independent mobility, she would be less likely to sustain any further injury from any loss of balance. However, what he wasn't counting on was how quickly his captain could become volatile.

At Janeway's stymied expression, Chakotay said, "He does have a point, Captain." A slow smirk spread across his face. "I'm honestly not sure who would be willing to volunteer for the job." That wasn't necessarily true. A majority of the crew had already offered to aid their captain, but the First Officer assured them everything was well in hand – for Janeway's own comfort naturally.

After a brief pout, a teasing look brightened Janeway's countenance. "I could always make it an order."

"Go ahead, and you'll be right back in here with food poisoning from your oh-so-willing help," the Doctor snorted.

Seven of Nine finally spoke. "I would be willing to assist you, Captain."

Chakotay turned to Seven with wide eyes. "Seven? Are you sure you understand what you'd be getting into?"

"Yes," the EMH added worriedly. "The Captain will need constant monitoring and assistance throughout the day and night. In addition to daily grooming, there are the physical therapy sessions…."

"Yes, Doctor, I understand," Seven spoke confidently, cutting off the Doctor.

Seeing an escape from Sickbay, Janeway wholeheartedly backed the new plan. "Let's do it!"

"Captain," Chakotay shifted closer, lowering his voice. "Do you think Seven would be the best person? You two do tend to butt heads on occasion."

"I realize the Captain will be a difficult patient, Commander, but I have had practice in dealing with the Borg children the last few months." The corner of Seven's lips turned up ever so slightly in a small smile.

"Thanks, Seven," Janeway said mockingly, catching the smirk.

Thoughtfully, the Doctor considered Seven's proposal. "All joking aside, Seven would be an ideal candidate. She has the necessary physical strength and wouldn't be likely to give into any irrational demands." At Janeway's glare, he cleared his throat and continued, "I'm quite sure she would follow whatever medical orders I prescribed."

"When do I get out of here?" Janeway asked unperturbed by their less than flattering opinions.

"I'll need to review the physical therapy regimen with Seven, as well several dos and don'ts. I imagine you could return to quarters once Seven is free." The EMH nodded with satisfaction that he would soon have Sickbay to himself again. "Commander?"

Shaking his head, Chakotay replied, "I don't see any reason why not. I'll just need an updated personnel roster for Astrometrics, Seven. Bring the report up to the Bridge after your duty shift." He did have some reservations, but the sooner he got off this train the better. "I'll be by to check on you later, Captain." With that, Chakotay strode out of Sickbay confident he had averted the pending explosion between the captain and Doctor.

"I will review the material with you now, Doctor; however, I will need to regenerate before taking the Captain to her quarters and make arrangements for the children." Tilting her head to regard Janeway, she asked, "Is that acceptable to you, Captain?"

"I suppose I can last a few more hours," Janeway sighed as she crossed her arms over her chest, silently pleased with herself.

"Good! With that settled, let's try to make our last hours together pleasant ones, hmm?" The Doctor motioned Seven to follow him into his office. Once there, he subjected her to a barrage of instructions, the plans for rehabilitation and the detailed deposition of treatment options begun. He continued well over an hour before Seven of Nine left to finish her shift in Astrometrics and prepare her department (and the Borg children) for her continued absence.

* * *

Hours later when Seven returned to Sickbay, the EMH asked again, "Are you sure you still want to do this, Seven? No one would fault you if you changed your mind." He saw a subtle shift in his friend, only noticeable because he knew her so well.

"I am sure, Doctor." Seven was certain she could complete the outlined tasks with little to no difficulty. She really wasn't sure why everyone was so apprehensive about her role in this task or over the captain's uncharacteristic envisioned behavior, but this was something the ex-drone felt compelled to do, to give to her captain – her friend.

Arturis's Brig seemed like a lifetime ago, when in reality it was only two years ago – eight months after she was disconnected from the hive. At that time, Seven didn't understand the full implications of humanity. Even now, she still had difficulty grasping the seemingly infinite complexities that encompassed the human psyche and established social structures. She and Janeway had clashed repeatedly and often at the beginning. However, as time passed, new experiences gave Seven a sharper insight into her shipmates and herself.

The prospect of becoming more human was still unsettling, but the fact she was still part Borg isolated her from a vast majority of the crew. Save a few crewmates who helped and simply encouraged Seven to be herself, she felt that the vast majority wanted her to conform to their standards and ideals, even chiding her when she didn't understand the way things worked. Of course, a great number of _Voyager_'s crew would only mouth the words, not really meaning them.

Seven desperately avoided such thoughts for they usually made her bitter and spiteful. Once again, she considered Janeway's words from the Brig. _You belong with us_. Seven knew the captain believed this as truth, and for now, it was enough.

Stepping over to the biobed, Seven gingerly placed a hand on Janeway's shoulder. "Captain, I shall pick you up now."

Vaguely, Janeway registered the words and was startled awake as Seven slid her arms under her shoulders and legs. "Seven?" She shivered slightly as the Doctor removed the blanket.

"Amazingly, the Captain had a full night's rest. So, she'll be well rested for today's activities." The Doctor was almost too gleeful as he proceeded to fold the blanket. "Contact me if you have any questions, Seven. I'll notify you if there will be any changes in my visits."

Nodding, Seven moved to the center of Sickbay. Janeway, now more alert, looked around, relieved no one else was present to witness the event. "Computer, initiate a site-to-site transport to the Captain's quarters."

Upon re-materialization, Seven moved decisively towards the captain's bedroom only to be stopped at the doorway.

"Could I sit on the sofa instead?"

"As you wish." Gracefully, Seven turned around and proceeded to gently deposit Janeway on her sofa. She attempted to discretely settle the captain's malfunctioning limbs, taking note of their cool tactile temperature. "Is there anything else you require at this time?"

"The blanket over on that chair would be nice." Janeway pointed to the tan colored blanket thrown over the back of an armchair lounger. As Seven retrieved said blanket, she added, "Oh, a cup of coffee would be heavenly!"

"The Doctor suggested a limited amount of caffeine." Seven draped the blanket over Janeway's legs.

"Seven," the captain gave her a firm stare. "We have to get along, and that's going to be much easier if I have my coffee."

Raising the implant above her left eye, Seven capitulated, "Very well."

* * *

Several reports and cups of coffee later, Captain Janeway was hit with a not too surprising discovery. She had to use the bathroom.

Deciding she didn't really need to go that badly, Janeway tried to refocus on the PADD in her hand, squirming as the urge built, or rather, she _tried_ to squirm. She couldn't even jiggle her foot to keep her mind off the growing need. Finally unable to wait any longer, the captain gave in and turned to look at her helper. "Seven?" she queried timidly.

Seven raised her head from Janeway's workstation at the desk, directly across from the sofa. "Yes, Captain?"

Flushing ever so lightly, Janeway asked, "Could you please help me to the en suite? I, um, need to use the facilities."

"Of course," Seven replied matter-of-factly. The Borg stood and came around to the captain, removing her blanket and lifting her into her arms without warning or effort. Once she got Janeway into the bathroom, she stopped, at a loss for further actions. "I am unsure how to proceed."

"That makes two of us," Janeway muttered under her breath. Several ideas flitted through her head as Seven stood patiently holding her, until she finally suggested, "Why don't I wrap my arms around your neck while you're standing, and I'll just sort of – dangle there. While I hang on, you can, uh, get my pants down past my hips then maneuver me onto the toilet."

The implant over Seven's left eye raised slightly as she assessed the captain's strategy. "Sufficient," she replied, shifting her grip on Janeway so that they were face to face. Once Janeway had her arms around Seven's neck, they proceeded to implement the plan.

The captain placed her hands primly in her lap and glared up at the ex-drone. "Could you please step out into the bedroom until I'm done?"

She released a sigh as Seven left, and she could finally pee. When she was done and the waste unit had cycled through its sonic setting, she called Seven back in and went through the equally embarrassing and awkward process of getting dressed again before being placed back and settled on the sofa.

Several beats of silence passed before Janeway could manage to say, "Thank you, Seven."

"It was not difficult, Captain; however, may I suggest you switch to wearing long tunics and forgo the pants from now on," Seven intoned in a matter-of-fact voice. "It would make such trips more efficient."

"I'll take it under advisement," came Janeway's dry response. She sat in quiet contemplation before picking up a discarded PADD.

There were bound to be other 'roadblocks' associated with her rather hasty escape from Sickbay, but damn it, it wasn't like she was getting any recovering done with the Doctor milling about, humming whilst poking and probing her whenever he felt like it or with the crew _dropping_ in for something or another. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate her crew checking on her, showing her they did indeed care about her welfare and were honestly concerned for her well-being. However, Janeway drew the line at the two hour conversation with Chell about Keslekki designs.

Then again, she did get caught up on the ship's gossip.

Right before activating the PADD, Janeway paused and looked over the device at Seven who had taken residence at her desk, using the terminal. She pursed her lips at her own indecision. Well, it wasn't _really_ indecision as much as preparing an approach. After all, there were technically only two people onboard who used it, and Janeway thought now would be as good a time as any. Besides, she didn't want to be addressed as 'Captain' next time Seven deposited her on the head or while they worked out the logistics for a sonic shower.

Oh, a bath would be heavenly, but currently impractical.

Opening her mouth, Janeway quickly snapped it shut, still unsure how to bring it up. Chakotay had been easy. They were trapped on a planet – alone. As such, the use of her first name was the natural progression of things. Tuvok had been equally simple, if not more so. They had become surprisingly good friends, rather quickly in fact. Janeway chuckled at the memory. It had been surprising for several people (such as several admirals, Mark, and especially Phoebe), to say the least. However, this situation with Seven of Nine was different, and sharing her first name seemed strangely intimate. The reasons as to why were unexamined and effectively crammed into a tidy little compartment, never to be opened.

Janeway activated her PADD, content to wait till the next time Seven addressed her by rank before she said anything. No muss, no fuss, right?

About two hours later, the captain dropped her last PADD onto a hap-hazard stack next to her on the sofa. It wasn't the most thrilling reading, but it was something to do and as always, kept her in touch with the happenings on her ship – more so than Chakotay or Tuvok could ever surmise. Her eyes shifted as she surveyed her domain, gaze settling on Seven of Nine who had remained absolutely silent while diligently working.

Curiosity peaked, Janeway unconsciously tilted her head, asking, "Seven, what are you doing?"

"I am refining a long-range astrometric sensor algorithm designed to neutralize neutrino radiation interference associated with subspace disturbances."

Janeway asked, "Wouldn't that be easier to modify from Astrometrics?"

"Yes, but this terminal is more than sufficient, Captain." Seven really didn't mind working from the standard interface despite the lack of custom controls that would expedite her work. Astrometrics was _her_ place, her domain, as was Cargo Bay 2. However, everyone knew she would usually be in either location which led to more interruptions and less productivity, especially with the four Borg children popping in and out.

Janeway's brows furrowed as she observed Seven in silence. The young woman had obviously obtained a rhythm working as her hands moved continually across the input pads. "If you need to return to Astrometrics, Seven, I can be left alone for awhile," the captain offered lightly, although she had a pretty good idea that the Doctor had told Seven otherwise.

Immediately, Seven stopped working, an instant of sheer panic came and went before she asked, "Would you rather be alone, Captain? Or, have another crewmember assist you?" A litany of questions rattled through her subconscious. For the first time, she wondered if her offer to aid the captain was the correct course of action given the Doctor's apprehension and Chakotay's uncertainty in Sickbay.

Quickly, Janeway back-peddled as a soft, warm expression settled over her features and demeanor. "No, no, that's not it, Seven. I just didn't want to keep you from any of your projects, normal activities or free time." She paused. Her voice lowered becoming huskier when she continued, hoping to convey more than her words. "I really do appreciate your assistance." _More than you may ever know._

Studying Janeway as she spoke, Seven was both relieved and slightly entranced by the lower timbre of voice. She really did want to help this person who had given her so much.

Oh, Seven of Nine was very aware of the allowances, the leverage and most certainly, the open boundaries afforded her by the captain of _Voyager_. In the beginning, her uncertainty held her in check to the status quo, but as Seven grew into herself, her arrogance made her bolder. She pushed at everything and everyone, judging all with her keen eye and intellect. Few challenged her as she sought to be challenged, but only one could stalemate her, cause her pause. For some time now, she'd been looking for more ways to interact and spend time with Janeway.

Unsure of how to articulate an appropriate response, Seven simply nodded and offered what she hoped was a pleasant smile.

Sensing her opportunity, the captain decided to jump in head first. Clearing her throat, she sat up a little straighter, pressing the heels of her hands firmly into the sofa cushions. "And it would please me if you would call me Kathryn."

If Janeway thought Seven eyes lit up with the previous barely-registering smile, then she was practically blown away by the open delight exhibited in them now – with only a slight upturn of the lips. The captain couldn't stop herself from offering a broad grin in return.

"I am uncertain as to the protocol…." Seven frowned as Janeway laughed.

"There's no protocol, Seven, but here's a general rule. If we're on duty or I'm in uniform, then it's Captain, but if not, Kathryn is fair game." Janeway watched the Borg wheels turning at warp speed.

"You're technically always on duty and usually found in uniform."

With a snort and a roll of the eyes, Janeway amended, "Point taken, how about in my quarters?"

"Acceptable."

"Good."

Maybe being in such close confines with Seven of Nine wouldn't be so bad after all.

Before Seven could return to her work, the door chimed. She heard Janeway sigh before acknowledging the visitor with a resigned, "Come in."

"Good evening, Captain, Seven." The Doctor strode merrily in with a med kit in hand, resolutely ignoring the captain's narrowed glare.

"Doctor," Janeway offered a clipped greeting. She had hoped to have at least twelve hours without seeing the hologram. In fact, the captain was certain she'd seen more of the EMH in a medical capacity in the last few days than she had in the last six years – or so it felt.

Kneeling next to Janeway, the hologram set his med kit on the sofa, snapped it open, and removed a medical tricorder. "I've had a bit of inspiration and devised a new nanoprobe treatment." He took a new set of readings, pleased with his latest findings.

Without a second thought, the Doctor pressed a hypo-spray containing the newly programmed nanoprobes against her neck. He spoke as the device hissed, releasing the nanoprobes into the captain's system. "We should see considerable improvement by tomorrow morning's physical therapy session." Swapping out the hypo for the tricorder, the EMH was pleased with the nanoprobes' progression, and he proceeded to provide a more detailed account of the revised programming and subsequent physical therapy regimen.

The words coming out of the Doctor's mouth were quickly forgotten as Janeway focused on the intense feeling of movement traveling from her jugular down her spine to her lower back and legs. In short, it was utterly bizarre, very similar to the marching ants sensation experienced about a week ago; however, unlike then, this was quite bearable. The captain must have blanked out for a substantial amount of time because when she halted her self-analysis, both Seven of Nine and the Doctor were standing directly in front of her with very concerned expressions.

"Captain?" Seven inquired.

Offering a reassuring smile, Janeway said, "I'm alright. It was just intense."

Nodding, the Doctor collected his equipment, having expected this specific reaction to the modified treatment. He relayed some more instructions to Seven of Nine, and took his leave.

After that initial house call, this was how the greater part of a week passed for the trio. The Doctor would arrive around 0800 hrs (by which time Seven already had the captain prepared) and examined the captain – gauging sensitivity levels, tactile responses, etc. The process usually consisted of several series of scans, injections and various types of flexibility/strengthening exercises. At first, Seven excused herself. Although she didn't necessarily want to leave the captain to the Doctor's mercy, she took advantage of the time – checking on Astrometrics, other projects, checking in with the children and once visiting with Naomi. Yet, something changed one day.

Seven of Nine stepped just inside the threshold of the captain's bedroom while the EMH began his set task. He was about to chase the young woman off when Janeway belayed him, simply saying, "She can stay if she wants."

And from that point on, Seven stayed within visual range of Janeway until the physical therapy sessions on the Holodeck started.

* * *

**[Several Days Later...]**

Chief Medical Officer's Log: Supplemental: _The Captain's treatment has been progressing as well as expected as she's managed to regain roughly sixty percent sensation with limited motor control of her lower limbs in a matter of days – thanks to the nanoprobe therapy I devised. Although we've just started the more rigorous physical therapy on the Holodeck, I have high hopes that Captain Janeway will make at least an eighty-five percent recovery, but until then, the Captain will have to rely on aids._

Janeway blinked lazily as she fought against sleep at the familiar pressure of her bed and blankets being drawn over her tired, aching body. Seven had 'relocated' her to bed. The drowsy captain vaguely remembered falling asleep in her chair watching the stars streak past while idly tinkering with her puzzle shortly after the Doctor's routine evening visit.

It was during these evening visits that the hologram would administer the blessed analgesic cocktail. Unfortunately as the captain recuperated, she also regained the capacity to register pain from the reactivating, regenerating and misfiring nerves where she was shot by the disruptor. The situation as it was, Janeway simply had to grin and bear it.

Valiantly, Janeway attempted to slur out a 'thank you' before once again succumbing to unconsciousness.

Seven of Nine watched over Janeway for a few moments. Satisfied that all was well, she retreated to the main living area and resumed her tasks at the terminal on the captain's desk. Her work usually settled her thoughts, allowed her mind to relax and focus as she lost herself in the rhythm of the work. Yet, after aiding Janeway for almost two weeks, Seven found it difficult to focus on her astrometric sensor data.

She was greatly concerned for Captain Janeway and unsure how to verbalize this concern without adding undue stress onto the captain. For all of Janeway's usual bravado, Seven considered her to be in good spirits upon returning from the first truly intensive physical therapy sessions, and confident that Janeway (and the Doctor) held realistic expectations of herself.

It was the crew that Seven of Nine now had reservations about.

Not ten minutes after Seven settled Janeway into her chair (with feet propped on the ottoman) did the senior staff begin their parade. Each chatted charmingly with their captain, expressing encouragement and a speedy recovery. However, as the visits continued, the exchange gradually shifted towards ship's business. Janeway, of course did nothing to divert the conversation nor refer them to the first officer. In retrospect, it would have all been for naught because the XO was the worse offender, having sat with Janeway for nearly two hours.

Giving up on her work, Seven moved to sit in Janeway's chair, recalling the many times Janeway sat here talking with her, recently and in the past. How often did Seven catch her reading in this chair? She lightly fingered the slight fraying on the chair arms, and wondered why Janeway didn't simply replace it. Seven briefly wondered if she would ever have or use anything enough to warrant such damage. The puzzle that had entertained the captain earlier sat casually on the side table. Curiosity finally won out as Seven picked up the object and studied it.

A cube with each side composed of nine smaller squares – each designated by a different color. Janeway had called it a _Rubik's Cube_, and mentioned that her sister had given it to her one year for Christmas. Any further questions Seven might have had were cut short by the Doctor's usual evening visit. Shortly after which Janeway drifted back to sleep, absolutely exhausted and spent.

Seven fumbled the puzzle about, noting that there were only six different colors. After a moment deducing the puzzle's rudimentary mechanics, she resumed Janeway's attempt to 'solve' the puzzle cube by maneuvering each side to a single color. When the captain offered Seven the puzzle, she had politely declined while mentally dismissing it, but now….

An indeterminate amount of time had passed when _Voyager_ suddenly and violently banked to port as a loud explosion vibrated through hull. The red alert klaxons immediately sounded as Seven of Nine jumped to her feet.

"_Seven of Nine, report to the Bridge" _sounded through her combadge.

Depositing the puzzle cube on the desk, Seven of Nine paused briefly before triggering the pneumatic doors. Her eyes focused on the archway leading to Janeway's bedroom. Her ears listening for any sounds that the captain may have been wakened or hurt. Seven bolted forward into the room, relieved and surprised that Janeway was still asleep, secure in her bed. She questioned the wisdom of leaving the captain unattended, but she had been called to the Bridge.

Another jolt rocked the ship.

Making her choice, Seven hurried out.

* * *

**[Approximately 12 Hours Later]**

First Officer's Log: Stardate 53996.15: Voyager_ has taken significant damage from the group of raiders that blight this sector. All attempts to establish a dialogue with them have failed. However, one thing is for certain, they hit hard and fast. I believe they only operate a specific distance from their home base. So the faster we get out of range, the better…. I hope we reach it soon because Maquis tricks haven't always worked._

"Attacked?" Janeway repeated as she pulled a pale green t-shirt over her head from her seat on the bed. If she learned anything the last few days in physical therapy on the Holodeck, it was that she liked it cold and she preferred loose fitting clothes, thus her choice of the well worn t-shirt and the comfortable light grey lounge pants.

Seven knelt before her captain, sliding socks over seemingly long feet. Knowing full well the oncoming sequence of questions, she quickly added, "The Commander indicated he would be by to brief you after your physical therapy session."

She glanced up, catching the semi-intense searching eyes as she adjusted the sock seam to not run over the fifth toe as she had noticed was the captain's preference. The Captain's intense scrutiny did not dissipate causing the often defiant former Borg to break eye contact when an unfamiliar sensation flitted about in her stomach and chest.

"I can't believe I slept through a Red Alert," Janeway said in a somewhat awed, if not slightly abashed, tone. "Let alone through an entire attack.…"

"You were substantially drugged," Seven offered as she slipped training boots onto the captain's feet. Slowly rising, she aided Janeway to her feet, not missing the wince. "Are you in discomfort, Kathryn?" Honest concern laced the young woman's words and expression.

Offering a half grin, Janeway said, "I'll be alright." She ripped her gaze from the intensity of Seven of Nine's anxious face as she focused on her attempt towards the lounger at the other end of the bedroom – not a meter and a half away. That was usually as far as the good captain could make it without leaning against someone. Suddenly the captain's legs gave way, but she was immediately stabilized by Seven who said nothing as they continued their slow shuffle towards the lounger.

And not for the first time as Seven – with extraordinary gentleness – assisted Janeway down onto the lounger, did the captain wonder why the young woman seemed so intent on helping, but her musings were cut short as the door chimed, signaling the Doctor's timely arrival.

The hologram entered the captain's quarters in his usual good spirits, chattering incessantly about the latest gossip, news and any random thoughts that crossed his mind all the while running his customary scans. "You almost got a day off, Captain, as both the transporters and Holodecks were only recently brought back online."

Janeway narrowed her eyes at the EMH.

Holodecks weren't critical systems. Transporters were designated as sub-critical systems, their priority depending on the CO's discretion. However from the telling vibration of the deck, the warp drive was obviously off-line and _Voyager_ was running at impulse – in hostile territory. No engineering personnel should be assigned to other systems until the warp drive was operational, that is unless the warp drive was damaged beyond repair.

Having taken a few steps back, Seven of Nine watched the rather routine scene. Perhaps she had made an error by informing Janeway of the attack? Should she have left such business to the first officer? Yet, Seven knew the captain, knew that she would want to be apprised of the status of the ship and crew.

However, the deepening scowl implied a different perspective.

Heads were about to roll.

* * *

**[Several Days Later…]**

Purposefully strutting into the EMH's office, Seven fixed the hologram with a hard stare, bestowing upon him her unique interpretation of seething. The situation was intolerable, especially given her general research into the matter.

"Seven?" he had the good grace to ask while keeping the desk between himself and his obviously agitated guest.

Allowing her nostrils to flare ever-so-slightly before regaining control, Seven replied in a clipped tone, "This is unacceptable."

The Doctor furrowed his brows briefly before connecting the proverbial dots. "Seven—"

"I shall be present at all further physical therapy sessions," she snapped, preparing to leave in the same manner she arrived.

"Not without the patient's consent," the EMH countered matter-of-factly. Noting what could be interpreted as a furious expression on his visitor's countenance, he backpedaled and softened his tone. "I realize that it's frustrating to watch her struggle, but it's for the Captain's own good – you and she both understand that. We discussed this—"

He was all too aware how difficult and painful the entire process had been on Janeway. After all, he did take regular readings and was well aware of the captain's pain threshold. Unfortunately, the nature and extent of her injury required some tough discipline. There was only so much relief an analgesic could offer in regards to misfiring synapses and chemical buildups as her body relearned how to operate its limbs.

"I shall get permission," Seven declared. She inclined her chin before continuing, "The Captain has become increasingly irritable in direct correlation with your parallel bar sessions."

Everything had been progressing fine as the captain's CNS continued to regenerate well within acceptable parameters. In a matter of days, Janeway had regained moderate sensation in her lower extremities, indicating enough neural activity and physical control to start the next phase of the therapy – training with the parallel bars on the Holodeck. Meanwhile, throughout the day, Seven of Nine assisted Janeway with various types of flexibility and strengthening exercises: heel slide, knee press, quad, hamstring, abductor, etc. The Doctor was profoundly impressed with Janeway's determination despite her frequent snappy retorts.

"I admit our last session in the Holodeck might have been a bit strenuous, but I'm not pushing her anymore than her body will allow. Pain can be a very healthy thing." He could tell Seven wasn't convinced. Rising from his chair, the Doctor started to move from around the desk. "Seven, it's understandable and commendable that you're worried about the Captain. Everyone is worried about the Captain, but coddling her isn't going to help her regain her mobility."

The EMH was about to rest a hand on her bicep when Seven retorted, "Neither is pushing her too hard."

Flabbergasted, the Doctor tossed his hands up into the air while turning in a circle, pacing to the other side of his office. "I'm only pushing her as far as she wants to be pushed. I have to trust her input, Seven. I have to trust her when she says enough is enough."

Seven realized she wasn't going to make any headway here. With a slow inhale, she offered a curt nod, a sort of self-acknowledgement indicating the necessity to change tactics, and the gesture served to silence the Doctor. She would have to speak with Captain Janeway directly about her behavior as of late. It was a task Seven of Nine did not relish since Janeway had become increasingly short with everyone since her release from Sickbay, or more accurately since the first pirate attack. However, the continued close personal contact with her captain offered Seven a unique opportunity to observe Janeway, perhaps even understand her better. The pros definitely outweighed the cons in this matter.

Suddenly, the Red Alert klaxons sounded as Chakotay's voice flooded the comm. "All hands, report to battle stations," was immediately followed by, "Seven of Nine, report to Astrometrics."

The Doctor trotted out into the main Sickbay area preparing for any possible incoming casualties as Seven hurried to Astrometrics. He paused in his preparations, ready to ask Seven what seemed a very important question that had just come to mind, but the young woman was already gone and he had just been informed of the first wounded.

Who was with the captain?

Undoubtedly, these continued attacks were partially the cause for the captain's increasing aggression as she believed her place to be on the Bridge.

The ship rocked from another bombardment of weapons fire.

Seven of Nine stumbled against a bulkhead as she traveled down the corridor to the Astrometrics Lab. No sooner did she reach the main lab console when the Intruder Alert alarm sounded and the main sensor array went offline. Her hands quickly danced over the board, activating the backups for Astrometrics. Main power flickered but eventually stabilized.

This was the third attack in two days.

The captain would not be pleased.

* * *

A shuddering breath escaped Janeway as Seven of Nine left her quarters, leaving her trapped on the sofa, unless of course, the captain decided to try a low crawl, but an absent lift of her arms negated that idea. After the daily impact of the parallel bars, she barely had the stamina to utilize the forearm crutches – the items that had indirectly led to Seven's recent exit.

The captain continued to mentally chastise herself as she drug a hand down her face. She really shouldn't have let her anger flare out at Seven. Of course, Janeway hadn't been the most pleasant person the last couple of days.

Still, her mind raced over her more than usual feisty behavior and more notably to Seven of Nine's reaction. The initial flare of shock and anger was apparent in those slightly narrowed, clear blue eyes. However, it was the consequent reaction that caused Janeway pause. Seven had seemed to set her jaw (to the point of grinding her teeth) as her neck muscles twitched; chin lifted and shoulders squared – usual precursors. These were common and obvious signs of the young woman's dissatisfaction as Captain Janeway had witnessed, even instigated those very reactions on numerous occasions.

Yet, Seven had just walked out.

Seven _never_ walked out, no matter how emotionally heated or physically dangerous the situation. She confronted everything head on, straight and true until convinced (or proven) otherwise. This trait was an established fact fundamental to her character. Despite the headache it caused, the captain had learned to value Seven of Nine's challenging nature as it acted to remind Janeway that her captaincy wasn't simply a privilege.

All this lead to a singular conclusion, the captain had hurt the ex-drone's feelings.

This notion, in and of itself, wasn't necessarily an issue as Janeway had stepped on quite a few toes throughout her life and career. The career aspect just came with the territory of command, but the life part.… This wasn't a simple disagreement concerned with an action or a decision: the Omega molecule, the rescued member of Species 8472, or even negotiating with members of Species 8472 at one of their undercover training facilities.

No, Kathryn Janeway had senselessly lashed out at her friend.

"Damn," she muttered, slumping slightly.

Any further self-analysis was halted by the door chime.

Bidding the visitor to enter, Janeway couldn't contain her surprise at seeing _Voyager_'s youngest crewman. "Miss Wildman," she greeted as the girl took a tentative step into the captain's quarters.

"Captain," Naomi returned, registering the open delight in her captain's expression. "I don't mean to bother you.…"

Her automatic apology was stalled by the shake of the head and a crooked smirk. She'd visited the captain before – without her mother – quite often, but never while Janeway was hurt. Her eyes quickly assessed her surroundings while her hands fumbled with her small gift as nervousness overtook her.

Realizing the girl's apprehension, Janeway offered the standard pleasantries and formalities. This relaxed and expected behavior served to set Naomi at ease and allowed the girl's natural charms free reign. As usual, Janeway allowed Naomi to set the pace of their conversation, all the while following the standard procedures of a subordinate conversing with a superior officer. (It was a bit of an oddity how the young girl inhaled Starfleet protocol procedures.) If time allowed, as well as barring any interruptions, the pair would soon enter in more casual and sometimes personal dialogue.

Finally obtaining her normal comfort level, Naomi offered her gift to the captain.

Janeway graciously took the ten centimeter, polished multi-colored sphere. "You've been experimenting in the geology department again," she said, examining the various materials comprising the object. Listening as Naomi described the entire process from how this particular sphere started out as an accident. "I think this may be your best one so far. Wouldn't you rather keep it for your collection?"

The captain didn't miss the slight frown.

"No, I have too many already."

Janeway arched an eyebrow.

"Mom tripped on one last week."

Fighting to keep the light chortle at bay, Janeway held the sphere up high, enabling the streaking starlight to reflect directly off the various materials. Bits of green and silver sparkled amidst the deeper hues of maroon and blue. "I'm sure I can imagine how _that_ conversation went.…"

Naomi only offered a sheepish smirk, a mischievous twinkle in her bright eyes.

However, the moment was broken when the Red Alert klaxons sounded, and Commander Chakotay's voice sounded for battle stations.

Instinctively, Naomi jumped from her seat next to Captain Janeway and bolted for the door, knowing she had to get back to her quarters as quickly as possible. As soon as she squeezed through the barely opening pneumatic doors, she skidded to a halt in the corridor – the Intruder Alert sounded.

Knowing it wasn't safe to travel unescorted, Naomi twisted around towards an unfamiliar sound. Three aliens had materialized in the corridor junction not five meters from her. Before they could turn, the girl hopped back into the captain's quarters, relieved when the doors closed.

"Naomi?"

Snapped out of her reverie, Naomi turned and rushed back to the captain. "There are three aliens in the corridor by the turbolift."

"Did they see you?"

"I don't think so."

The ship rocked hard to starboard as the lights flickered. Janeway grabbed Naomi, pulling the girl to her, shielding her from the mass of raining sparks. Again, the lights flickered but this time remained out. The eerie glow of phaser fire and the flickering shields illuminated the cabin.

"Computer, seal doors," ordered Janeway. Her eyes searched about the darkness when no indication of acceptance or completion of command was given by the verbal interface. Her ears strained to hear for movement in the corridor. Quickly, the captain slapped her combadge. "Janeway to Bridge." Pause. "Janeway to Tuvok."

Distinctive alien voices were heard in the corridor.

The list of possible damaged systems rattled through the captain's mind.

"Naomi, the crutch," Janeway ordered, pointing at the forearm crutch lying behind the desk on the floor.

Naomi darted without hesitation to the requested object, bringing it back to Janeway.

Slipping her right arm into the cuff, the captain continued, "In my port nightstand, there's a hand phaser."

As the girl started towards the bedroom, a loud bang sounded against the pneumatic doors. Startled, Naomi stopped, staring at the source of the noise.

"Go," Janeway hissed, hoisting herself upright.

Ignoring the pain, the captain somehow struggled to the far lounger which she haphazardly fell onto. Her lower back agonizingly throbbed as the marching ants started their parade up and down her legs. Another loud bang forced her back to the task at hand. Arms shook from strain and overuse as the captain freed herself from the metal cuff. Twisting around, Janeway hit the manual release for the bottom drawer of the storage cabinet under the viewport to reveal a type-3b advanced pulse phaser rifle.

Another loud bang on the pneumatic doors sounded as Naomi once again rejoined her captain.

Janeway motioned for the girl to stand directly next to her. She quickly took and molded the small hands around the hand phaser, explaining the buttons as she went. The girl seemed to understand the instructions given her as she nestled down behind the lounger and bulkhead.

The shrieks of creaking metal filled the cabin as the doors were being forced open.

Janeway activated the rifle, quickly switching off the forward-mounted light.

A gloved hand followed by an arm snaked its way between the doors, forcing them open.

She disengaged the safety with a notable click.

Another set of hands appeared, assisting in opening the door.

Janeway raised the rifle, waiting for visual confirmation, not wanting to tip-off her vulnerable position until absolutely necessary.

Just as the pneumatic doors were wide enough to admit the intruders, phaser fire was exchanged in the corridor. Two of the three intruders engaged a _Voyager_ security team while the first intruder bolted inside the captain's quarters, believing it to be relatively safe.

Immediately, the captain took down the intruder.

The commotion of their comrade dropping to the deck distracted one of the remaining two as he turned and took a shot in Janeway's general direction. A simple diversionary tactic as he must have called for a beam out as all three quickly dematerialized.

At the fast approaching sounds of footsteps, Janeway raised the rifle to the open door from her awkward position on the deck. She had rolled off the lounger to avoid the second intruder's shot while ordering Naomi to drop down.

"Are you alright, Captain?"

Relieved, Janeway answered, "We're fine, Lieutenant Rollins." Waving for Naomi to come out of hiding, the captain half listened as Rollins ordered another team to secure the section and posted a team outside the captain's quarters. She took the hand phaser from the young girl and asked if she was alright.

Naturally, Naomi attested that she was indeed fine while inquiring about the captain's welfare.

Accepting assistance from Lt. Rollins and Naomi, Janeway easily returned to the sofa, all the while inquiring about the state of the ship. Hearing what she expected to hear, the captain thanked the security officer and instructed him to return Miss Wildman to her quarters.

Exhausted and alone, Janeway dropped her head to rest on the back of the sofa.

* * *

Seven was slightly surprised when the door to the captain's quarters opened without requesting entrance. Stepping in, she was a little curious about what she would find, especially since she did not leave the captain in the best of moods before the attack.

Her original intentions had been to leave Janeway 'hanging' for thirty minutes or so. She wasn't sure if it was her sense of duty that led Seven to 'take it,' but the captain's insolent behavior would be curbed one way or another. Perhaps she would threaten to have Janeway returned to Sickbay, and once again be at the Doctor's _tender mercies_ as the captain herself aptly put it. However, things didn't go quite as planned as Seven was ordered to report to Engineering to expedite repairs after _Voyager_ finally managed to outrun their pursuers – again.

"I'm sorry, Seven," said Janeway from the very same spot on the sofa where Seven had left her several hours ago. She sat with her head bowed, hands folded on her lap "I know it's no excuse, but I'm just so frustrated."

"Understandable." Seven stepped over to the desk, holding a few PADDs. She was unfamiliar with the feeling of almost overwhelming concern, specifically for Janeway, but reigned it all in tight. There was no telling how the captain would react. Part of her thought she was being foolish, that the sentiment would be welcomed, while the other steadfastly proclaimed attachments to be irrelevant.

Instead, the ex-drone focused on the basic task of putting down the PADDs which contained various departmental and damage reports from the last two attacks as well as the current state of repairs. Chakotay would be meeting with Janeway in an hour or so, depending on how quickly repair crews managed to wrap up their work. Right now, the XO was meeting with Tuvok, working on a strategy to repel any further attacks before approaching Janeway. Captain and First Officer didn't part on the best of terms after their powwow following the first attack.

Taking a long breath, Janeway offered Seven a chagrined look. "And I'm sorry I tossed that boot at you."

Satisfied, Seven took a few steps towards her captain, a bit of her trepidation relieved. "Apology accepted; however, I will warn you that if there are any other behavioral digressions similar to what happened before, I shall inform the Doctor that you will be returning to Sickbay for the duration of your rehabilitation."

Janeway nodded as Seven's message was received loud and clear.

The last couple of days had been very difficult and trying on the captain's patience. Ultimately, it was the total loss of control over her body, her ship and now her emotions that was getting to her. She needed to get it together and fast. Of course, Janeway had surprised herself with how quickly she became comfortable with Seven of Nine as her aid.

"Have you eaten?"

"No."

Without asking whether or not she wanted dinner (or what she may want for that matter), Janeway watched Seven stride towards the replicator and bring her a bowl of beef stew. Normally, she would just nibble on a fruit 'n veggie tray while reading, but Seven quickly stopped that routine as she demanded Janeway follow the Doctor's nutritional guidelines – especially if she wanted coffee.

Obediently, Janeway took the stew and quietly thanked her houseguest – still playing the role of the submissive, scolded puppy. She should have never allowed her temper to flare at Seven, especially since the young woman was only trying to help, and Janeway couldn't ask for better support.

However, this currently exhibited abnormal behavior from her had elicited an unexpected response from the Borg. Janeway hid her curious scrutiny by eating. As she continued to eat, Janeway disregarded the moment. It was probably nothing or just a nervous Seven. It wasn't every day the captain gave a crewmember big puppy-dog eyes up through her eyelashes.

Fetching the PADDs from the desk, Seven joined Janeway on the sofa. Once the flitter in her chest stopped, she said, "Kathryn, I need to regenerate for four hours tonight. Would you be averse to settling in early?" Even after two weeks, it still felt odd to use the captain's first name.

"Not at all," Janeway answered as she hunted for the stewed carrots, eating them first.

A few minutes passed before Seven asked, "Were you alone all this time?"

Shaking her head, the captain finished her bite. "No, Naomi had gotten the courage to finally press my door chime." Janeway flashed a crooked smile while taking another bite.

"Her mother had firmly instructed her not to bother you."

"She doesn't bother me," Janeway corrected softly. She and the young girl had a similar conversation a year or so earlier, about how Naomi should heed and respect her mother's wishes. This was quickly countered by a series of questions of how-abouts, what-ifs and other insanity-inducing Delta Quadrant perils. Despite the serious undertones of the conversation, Janeway honestly enjoyed herself. The captain smiled as she took another bite of the stew, but that flipped to a frown. "Naomi used to visit more often."

"I believe that has to do with the Borg children."

Nodding, Janeway said, "It must be nice to have other children onboard."

_Voyager_'s sole child was always a paramount concern for the captain, but unfortunately, the young girl usually got lost in the shuffle – socially – and the crew usually kept the girl from under the captain's feet, believing she might be a bother. Janeway was quick to tell Naomi otherwise.

"Mezoti, Azan and Rebi are afraid of you," Seven continued, ignoring Janeway's comment.

"Afraid?" Janeway was aghast for just a moment before she chuckled. "What did you tell them?" She raised an eyebrow at Seven, stabbing a piece of beef.

"Not to bother you," Seven stated matter-of-factly. Indirectly, she was part of the reason why Naomi Wildman didn't visit the captain as often. The young woman had impressed upon all the children that the captain's time was very limited.

Realizing that she wasn't going to get anymore out of Seven, the captain continued with her meal, enjoying the quiet company. It was nice, very nice actually.

Seven was quite pleased with the complete change in the captain's attitude as she had anticipated an even more volatile disposition upon her return. Listening to the soft sounds of Janeway eating and the gentle cycling of the environmental system, the ex-drone swept her eyes over the state of the cabin; noticing that one of the forearm crutches lay against the sofa next to the captain, a hand phaser and rifle on top of the far lounger. This naturally led Seven's eyes to the scorch mark on the bulkhead, just above the lounger.

"Are you damaged?"

Janeway was startled out of her own thoughts. "No more than usual," was her impish reply as she flashed a saucy smile, but quickly amended her statement at Seven of Nine's deepening frown. "I'm fine, Seven. I hurt, but I'm fine."

This failed to subdue the young blonde's questions or concerns.

"Has the Doctor not been by for his evening visit?"

"I'm sure he has his reasons for running late," Janeway offered, returning to her meal. In fact, she had already been apprised, thanks to Lt. Rollins (as communications were still inoperative), that the Doctor would be late. It was also the same young security officer that kept Janeway continually informed of the ship's status.

Before Seven could offer any further comments, the door chime sounded and Janeway bid them enter.

Automatically, Seven stood as the pneumatic doors opened to reveal Lt. Rollins.

"Captain," he greeted. Turning to Seven, Rollins nodded, "Seven."

Unfazed by the expected visit, the captain continued to eat. "What can I do for you, Lieutenant?"

"Just checking in, Ma'am," said Rollins, walking forward to offer a PADD to Janeway. "Commander Tuvok asked me to deliver this report."

"Thank you, Scott." Janeway smiled, taking the PADD.

Clearing his throat, Rollins nodded, stepping backwards. "If there is anything else, Captain, please don't hesitate to contact myself or anyone from security."

Curious, Seven watched as Rollins scurried out of the quarters after Janeway's nodding dismissal. Raising an eyebrow, she turned back in time to see the captain placing an empty bowl on the coffee table, and the wince when she moved back. "You are in pain."

"I can wait till the Doctor gets here," Janeway waved away young woman's concerns.

Trying her combadge in an attempt to contact the EMH, Seven turned purposely. "I will fetch him."

The strange tone in the 'Seven' that followed halted the young woman. Seven turned to see Janeway shifting herself on the sofa, finding no comfortable position.

"I'm sure the Doctor hasn't forgotten about me."

"It is 2000 hours," Seven of Nine informed her, watching the captain intently.

Janeway glanced at the clock and sighed.

"I will fetch the Doctor," was all Seven said as she left Janeway once again sitting on the sofa.

* * *

Seven of Nine returned to the captain's quarters from Cargo Bay 2 after four hours of regeneration and a brief visit to Main Engineering to inquiry if she could be any assistance in repairs. However, Lt. Torres simply told her to see to the captain. By this point, the mini adventure of Captain Janeway and her Captain's Assistant, Naomi Wildman, had made its rounds through the ship. The crew's pride was almost palpable.

Attempting to be quiet in her assessment of the older woman's status, Seven poked her head into the captain's sleeping area, expecting to see Janeway flailed diagonally across the bed as was her tendency. But instead, she found her captain sitting up, forcibly rubbing her thighs.

"Kathryn?" Seven boldly stepped forward. "I will assist you." She gestured for Janeway to lie back down as she silently helped her work through a series of exercises for both legs.

"Thank you, Seven."

"Can I be of any further assistance, Kathryn?"

"I don't think so."

The Borg was at a loss as it was obvious Janeway wouldn't be returning to sleep. Excusing herself, Seven exited to the living area of the quarters and contacted the Doctor. He had anticipated this predicament, but given the state of things really couldn't offer any further assistance or relief other then what Seven just did.

"The Captain is just going to have to tough it out, Seven," the EMH had said with clear regret.

This begged the question of how much 'toughening' a person could take, or specifically how much Captain Janeway could take as she was often the last to reward herself and the first to restrict herself when resources where limited.

Hearing a soft whimper, Seven focused her attention as she listened at the quiet shifting of the captain. She thought back to when she was first confined to the Cargo Bay and the loneness she experienced. After the isolation was over and she had developed a deeper friendship with the captain, Naomi and the Doctor, Seven found time passed more quickly in the company of favorable companions. Yet for some reason, she did not move to offer Janeway any companionship or distraction.

"I can hear you thinking, Seven." Janeway smiled as the young woman instantly appeared in the archway with a perplexed expression on her face. Chuckling, she gestured towards the lounger. "If you're not busy, would you mind offering me a bit of distraction?"

"Of course." Seven took a step towards the chair, carefully considering her conversational options. As she sat, she studied the large, greenish box with some sort of crudely carved fish adorning the lid. The object seemed strange amongst the other elegant items which decorated the captain's personal space. "What is the significance of the fish?"

"That was a gift from my Uncle Steve – Aunt Martha's husband." Janeway smiled fondly as she settled against her pillows, leaning against the bulkhead.

"I assume there is a humorous anecdote associated with the gift?"

"Perhaps," Janeway offered dryly.

Seven inclined her head expectantly.

"I assume you would like to hear it."

"You are seeking a distraction from your discomfort," Seven clarified.

With a shake of her head, the captain started her narrative.…

"_Tell me again how we got talked into this?" Phoebe Janeway asked, attempting and failing to slip her arms into the super-tight elastic straps of her borrowed waders. _

_Smirking as her little sister twisted in vain, Kathryn stepped forward to help as she said, "You, dear sister. You told Uncle Steve that you could out fish him any day of the week." She absently checked the adjustable straps, ensuring the garment fit properly._

"_Why did you ever let me say something so stupid?"_

_Kathryn laughed. "So this is somehow my fault?"_

"_Yes!" Phoebe exclaimed finally free from the tugging and pulling. She took a few tentative steps to get used the feeling of the waders. "You're supposed to make me keep my mouth shut, and save me from embarrassment and foot-in-mouth disease." _

"_I'm not a miracle worker," Kathryn scoffed. _

_However, the enjoyment over Phoebe's self-inflicted dilemma was short-lived as Uncle Steve (a very tall man of south Louisiana descent) knocked on the door. The sisters bid their uncle enter as he was bringing another set of waders for Kathryn. After some mild teasing and boosting, Uncle Steve told them to be ready in fifteen minutes to head out into the river. _

"_Are you really going to wear those?" Phoebe asked as she looked at the very old, much worn waders._

"_It's all they have left," Kathryn stepped into the waders._

"_I wouldn't be caught dead in those."_

_Rolling her eyes as she adjusted her shoulder straps, Kathryn said, "Remember, I do this for you." She slipped into one of the chest packs Uncle Steve was kind enough to drop off with the waders._

_Phoebe frowned as she held up the other chest pack. "What do we need all this equipment for anyway?"_

_Snapping the fastening clip, Kathryn looked wide-eyed at her sister. "We're going fly fishing." At the blank look on her sister's face, she continued, "What you did last summer with Joe Daniels? You talked about all the hiking and outdoors stuff you did at Thanksgiving which included fly fishing."_

_Realization dawned on Phoebe. "Oh, we didn't actually do any of that."_

_With furrowed brows, Kathryn asked, "What did you do for two weeks?"_

"_Um.…"_

"_Never mind," Kathryn sighed, snatching up her broad-brimmed hat and setting it on her head. "Next time you get pissed off at me, I want you to remember this."_

_Phoebe smiled. She really did love her big sister. "You look so cute," she cooed, reaching out to adjust the hat._

"_Come on," Kathryn grabbed Phoebe's hand and pulled her out the door._

_The day progressed without much incident, aside from the usual good-natured bickering between the various family members. It was the last time Kathryn spent any significant amount of time (other than holidays) with her sister and uncle before taking command of _Voyager_._

"It didn't take long for Phoebe to get a handle on the technique. Eventually, I tuned out their banter and just went through the motions." Janeway could almost hear the gentle trickle of the river, the soft song of distant birds. It was a beautiful spring day in the New York Catskills. "However, I wasn't left to my own devices for very long.…"

_An hour later, Victor (Steve's oldest son) and his wife, Irene, arrived with their two youngest in tow. The usual pleasantries were exchanged which gradually led to teasing banter, mostly at Phoebe's expense. None of this served to break into Kathryn's almost trance like state until the 14 year-old Mary screamed as her 7 year-old brother, Amos, splashed her with the crisp river water._

_The shrill shriek pierced the quiet like a bolt of lightning, completely shattering the serenity. _

_Kathryn jerked to discover the source of the disturbance, but by doing so, she lost her balance on the slick rocks in the river. She twisted about in a vain attempt to regain her balance, but ultimately was unable to so. By this time, Uncle Steve was watching her, laughing as Kathryn fell backwards into the deeper shallows._

_Cold water rushed into the waders, completely soaking Kathryn head to toe. She sat up in time to see her hat start floating down stream. Scrambling to her feet, Kathryn lunged for it and thankfully caught it. Securing the hat on top of her head, she slowly stood up and picked up her discarded pole._

"_Are you alright, Ryn?" called Phoebe with amusement in her voice._

_Kathryn scowled at her sister, but couldn't stop the grin. Just as she was about to laugh, Kathryn stopped and looked down into the gaping, wide top of the waders._

_Phoebe turned towards Uncle Steve, who was now watching with concern, but before either could ask.…_

"I had felt something whacking against my thigh through my jeans, and I'll admit it's a tad unsettling when you can't see down your own pants," Janeway chuckled, stifling a yawn as she remembered the shocked faces of her uncle and sister. "So, I reached down and pulled out the only trout we managed to catch that entire trip. Uncle Steve crafted that box as a memento."

Seven reached out and picked up the small photograph leaning against the outside of the box. "Is this your sister with you?" Glancing up for confirmation, she returned her gaze to the two Janeway sisters hugging each other while in their fly fishing gear.

Despite the dissimilar waders, Phoebe Janeway appeared to be about twelve centimeters taller than her sister. Dark, curly brown hair floated about in that spring day's breeze as Phoebe appeared to lovingly squeeze the waterlogged Kathryn Janeway.

About to ask another question, Seven returned the photograph and turned towards Janeway, who had by this time drifted off to sleep. A sense of relief calmed the young woman as she rose from her seat. Settling a discarded blanket over her captain, Seven quietly slipped out to the living area and prepared for the senior staff briefing which had been moved to mid-morning.

Earlier, at approximately 2100 hours, Commander Chakotay had arrived at the captain's quarters, prepared to discuss that latest attack. Seven of Nine informed him that the captain was in a non-commutative state and had requested a senior officer briefing tomorrow morning here in her quarters. Chakotay was visibly relieved, and had ordered Seven to assist in repairs if given the opportunity.

Noticing the time on the antiquated time piece, Seven picked up the series of PADDs she had deposited on the desk earlier in the evening. The captain would want to be briefed before the meeting.

* * *

Neelix bristled slightly. He couldn't quite believe what Captain Janeway just suggested. "With all due respect, Captain, do you think that's really appropriate?"

Janeway took a sip of her coffee. The scalding liquid was the only thing keeping her focused at the moment. "Given the circumstances, I believe it certainly garners further consideration if not immediate implementation." She could see Neelix about to continue his objection, but something shifted in the Talaxian's demeanor as his gaze drifted across the room.

"I'll speak with Ensign Wildman," Chakotay said.

Nodding, Janeway said, "Upon proper guardian's approval, I want this implemented as quickly as possible, Chakotay." She fixed him with a pointed look. At his nod, she knew her message was received loud and clear. "Tuvok, will you oversee the training?"

"Aye, Captain."

Janeway didn't have to embellish the seriousness of the task, and she trusted the Vulcan security chief to ensure the children's safety – in their understanding for the training and to the people assigned to administer it. Shifting in her chair as she tried desperately not to wince, Janeway demanded an update on the still non-functional warp drive.

"It's the magnetic restrictors, Captain. The outer casing was cracked beyond repair." Torres paused for a second, glancing at Chakotay. "I have a temporary solution I can try.…" She trailed off in her explanation at the XO's increasingly hard look. They had discussed this prior to the briefing, and Chakotay felt Torres's solution was too much of a risk. "The matter/anti-matter reaction would require constant monitoring and manual adjustment, but it'll give us warp for about a week before we absolutely had to replace the entire magnetic restrictor assembly." The chief engineer also knew it would take that long to build a new assembly from scratch, since it wasn't likely _Voyager_ could just pull up to an outpost and procure one.

Lt. Paris jumped in. "I've conferred with Seven, Captain, and there's a nebula about ten light years from here. It'll take us a few days to reach it at impulse, but if we wait to engage warp on the other side, we'll be able to mask our warp trail – at least long enough to put some distance between us and these pesky pirates."

Janeway nodded.

"I've been looking over the power consumption projections, Captain," said Ensign Kim. "And I think if we drop to only bare critical systems, we could possibly maintain a warp factor six for two weeks with the rigged assembly." He tried not to blush at Janeway's smirk.

"Do it," the captain ordered, quite pleased with her crew's seemingly never ending ingenuity.

Taking the dismissal and eager to get to work, the senior staff filtered out of the captain's quarters. Seven, having maintained a sentry post beside the desk during the meeting, listened as the EMH asked if Janeway felt able to attend a therapy session today. Although not surprised, she was apprehensive when the captain said no. To his credit, the Doctor didn't press the matter and left without another word. She also observed their exchange was overhead by Tom Paris. Upon his exit, the helmsman made eye contact with Seven, offering her a weak smile.

Just as she was about to address Janeway, Seven was distracted by heated words in the corridor. It was clearly Lt. Torres and Cmdr. Chakotay discussing the quick fix to the warp drive. Her attention returned to Janeway as the argument moved away from the pneumatic doors towards the turbolift.

"What do you think, Seven?"

"About what specifically, Kathryn?" the Borg asked, walking to stand next to the captain.

They gazed out the viewport together.

Taking another sip of her coffee, finishing it, Janeway clarified, "Teaching the kids how to use a phaser."

"I was . . . surprised but understand the necessity of including such tasks into their education." Seven paused. "They will handle the task and responsibility appropriately."

"Of that I have no doubt." Janeway set her now empty mug on the side table. Her crew wouldn't allow it otherwise. The captain just wished _Voyager_'s precious cargo didn't have to grow up quite as fast.

* * *

Chief Medical Officer's Log - Supplemental, Stardate 53010.12: _Despite a minor setback, Captain Janeway's progression in her rehabilitation has been quite satisfactory. In addition, her attitude about the entire process has been outstanding given the captain's usual tendencies regarding her medical care, or so I believed until I informed her that she needed to use the forearm crutches for at least another week._

"Another week?" Janeway scowled at the holographic doctor.

"I'm sorry, Captain, but I'm standing by my medical recommendation." The Doctor crossed his arms over his chest as he returned Janeway's scowl. He wasn't really surprised by the emergence of this typical obstinate behavior. It had been a long time coming, especially as she had been such a good sport – for the most part.

Basically, it all boiled down to safety. Captain Janeway simply couldn't maneuver herself reliably without risking further injury. There were still too many variables.

Lifting his chin in response to Janeway's narrowing eyes, the EMH refused to back down.

"Seven has supervised me long enough," she growled.

"Well, she's simply going to continue acting as your aid for a little while longer," he replied with a light voice, shifting out of his defensive stance. Naturally, the Doctor had already conversed with Seven about the situation. It was ultimately her insights and observations of the captain that helped him with this very decision.

"She has more important things—"

"I'm not going to have this argument with you, Captain. You'll need to use the forearm crutches for another week before I even consider releasing you to light duty." He tried not to smirk as Janeway seemed to perk up at the mention of being released to duty. "I understand that this hasn't been a picnic for you, but you've made remarkable progress and have surpassed my original timeline."

"Another week?" Janeway asked again, more quietly this time.

"Maybe less," the EMH offered a reassuring smile. "It just depends on how well you recover after your little exploit from the other day."

"How is Naomi?"

Sitting down on the sofa, the Doctor decided a little socializing with his captain certainly couldn't hurt. After all, he knew exactly what it was like to be trapped. "She's perfectly healthy, absolutely no adverse effects from your joint adventure." If he felt more inclined about predicting Janeway's mood and reactions, he might have mentioned how excited the girl was but such things were hard to gauge.

"That's good," the captain offered, pursing her lips. "I half expected Samantha to burst in here and give me a piece of her mind."

Clearing his throat, the Doctor was quite serious as he said, "You saved her little girl." He waited for Janeway to respond, but when she remained quiet, worry over the captain's mental state flinted across his thoughts. Continuing, he asked, "Has Samantha ever challenged your decisions? Has she ever claimed your actions as captain put her daughter into danger?"

"No." Janeway brows furrowed. "When she told me she was pregnant, I couldn't shake the impression she expected me to order the pregnancy terminated."

The EMH was startled by how the captain seemed to have opened up. Frankly, he expected a quick and definitive dismissal after his last comment. Quickly, the Doctor regained his composure. "How did you know she was pregnant?"

"Temporal Prime Directive, Doctor."

"Of course," he sighed, but added, "Why didn't you order the pregnancy terminated? You were well within your rights as captain given the status of the ship."

As if facing down an enemy, Janeway lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. She wasn't certain how to answer, wasn't certain if she should even answer. "It was something Chakotay said about intimate relations might cause problems given our situation."

Patiently, the EMH waited for his captain to continue, but nothing further ever came. He really couldn't feel slighted since this was the most she'd ever opened up to him. It left him thinking that she'd maybe be more willing to discuss decisions regarding him. For now, the hologram would take this small token and attempt to unravel the enigma that was Captain Kathryn Janeway.

* * *

Chief Medical Officers' Log - Supplemental, Stardate 53020.02: _Thanks to my continued exceptional care, I have released Captain Janeway to light, active duty as she has achieved reliable mobility with a cane. In addition, I've devised a wider series of rehabilitation exercises to help strengthen and stretch the necessary muscles._

"Now you can do better than that, Captain," chided the Doctor. He stood in the loose, white tank top and red shorts of a pool lifeguard.

Resting for the moment, Janeway floated at the side of the pool, arms resting on the smooth tiled ledge. She glared up and once again couldn't fathom how much body hair the hologram had on his legs and arms. _Couldn't put some of that on his head?_

"I know you are a most adept swimmer." The Doctor lifted his stopwatch to reset it. He glanced down to see the glare, the single tapping finger. "This really is in your best interest," he added softly. When he noticed Janeway's soften features, the EMH suggested, "Let's get a frame of reference, shall we? How about 100 meter freestyle? We can compare your academy times to these times."

Lazily swimming back to the starting platform, Janeway slowly moved to pull herself out of the water, mindful of her footing and hand grips. "Doctor, I was twenty," she interjected.

"We'll make adjustments to allow for your age, current physical condition and whatever other variables." The Doctor smiled, knowing he was appealing to his captain's competitive nature. He moved toward the center of the pool's length. Seeing Janeway take position, the Doctor brought his whistle to his mouth, waited a moment and blew. He was really quite pleased and frankly impressed with how the captain took to the water exercises.

"Doctor," greeted Seven of Nine.

Slightly startled, the Doctor nodded his greeting, keeping his eyes on the captain. "Come for a little swim lesson?"

"No."

"Maybe you should try it sometime. It looks like it would be a fascinating experience," he commented, watching the captain underwater.

She had reached the other side, completed her underwater touch and turn before she proceeded to propel herself back to the start.

He stopped the stopwatch as Janeway finally touched the other side. "Very good, Captain." The time was well within a range he had expected. Briefly, he thought about having her run the course again, but realized the tiredness in her shoulders. "Well, that should be enough for today." He continued in an annoyingly chipper tone, "We'll schedule this activity again later this week." After a receiving a mock salute from the captain, the Doctor nodded his goodbye to Seven.

Thinking she was at last alone, Janeway pulled off her goggles, leaned her head back into the water. The movement always felt like someone running their fingers through her hair, massaging the scalp. Having enough of the water, Janeway once again pulled herself out of the pool, but stayed perched on the side. After being in the water for so long, she felt heavy and dense. It was then she noticed Seven of Nine inspecting the pool.

"Hello, Seven," she offered with genuine delight. "Come for a swim?"

Seven's eyes darted to the captain and back to the mass volume of water before her. She couldn't remember ever submerging her body in liquid, and neither did she desire to do so. "No." Her response was perhaps too curt, and she thought to expound upon it, but stopped at Janeway's low chuckle.

Forgetting about the pool, Seven moved to join Janeway at the end. She observed the variant Starfleet swimwear the captain donned – a charcoal grey, solid, one-piece suit. It was sleeveless with a slight collar similar to the standard tunic, and covered the body until mid-thigh.

Stopping beside Janeway, Seven offered, "I have no practical experience with swimming." It wasn't offered freely to anyone. There had been many times the crew engaged in outdoor, water-type activities, but Seven never felt compelled to wear the revealing clothing.

By this time, Janeway had grabbed a towel, and was rubbing it vigorously through her hair. She stopped at Seven's confession, and regarded the young woman, her instinct telling her there was more to it. "No?" Janeway asked with her hair completely disheveled and wanton. "Maybe we can change that someday." Holding up a hand, Janeway continued, "Help me up, please. After being in the water for so long, I feel waterlogged."

Without hesitation, Seven did as she was asked and continued to offer the necessary support as they walked towards the locker room.

"Shift over already?" Janeway asked, as she slowly lowered herself onto a bench, pulled open her locker and started removing the swimsuit.

"No, I was curious as to what was entailed with the Doctor's new rehabilitation regimen." Seven honestly answered. This was the first time she hadn't attended a physical therapy session. In fact, since the EMH released the captain to light duty and the use of a tritanium cane, the young woman was no longer required to offer continual aid to Janeway. After a few days, she realized she missed the older woman's company.

"You should try it sometime," the captain offered casually, wiggling totally out of the wet garment.

"Perhaps."

"Naomi loves to swim." Janeway offered offhandedly pulling a grey tank over her head, taking the opportunity to assess Seven. "She doesn't get to do it often."

The Borg stood in her usual position she'd adopted for these situations – standing close but with hands behind her back, turned away from Janeway. Now, the captain had no qualms about her body or her naked body, for that matter. Such notions and novelties are quickly driven out when working in Starfleet, living in space, but it was usually perceived as a sign of respect for rank or perhaps the individual.

When Seven made no attempt to respond, Janeway said, still dressing, "It's not like you to take a break in the middle of a shift." She knew for a fact Seven only took a lunch break when invited by someone.

"I wished to inquire if you would still feel inclined for our scheduled activity after your duty shift."

Smiling, Janeway hooked her cane over a shelf in her locker and used it as a means to pull herself to a standing position. "I don't see why not, Seven," she answered releasing her grip on the cane, pulling her uniform trousers and other garments to her waist. "I'm sure after four hours of sitting in my Ready Room that I'll be ready for a little walk."

What the captain really wanted was to take a strolling cruise through her ship, but that wasn't possible at the moment. Although the Doctor had approved the cane, Janeway realized her limits.

Seven turned to face Janeway as she was pulling the grey tunic over her head. "Very well, Captain." She reached into the locker, removing the uniform jacket. Opening the jacket, Seven was pleased she was still able to offer assistance.

* * *

Captain's Log - Supplemental, Stardate 53031.45: _It's been almost a week since our last pirate attack, since they successfully boarded _Voyager_, but I can't shake this feeling that they're still watching us. Why haven't they attempted another strike? I've ordered the crew to investigate that very question._

"Nothing?" Janeway raised an eyebrow, looking at her senior officers. She sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "They breeched our defenses. I find it a little hard to believe that they would just back off."

"Maybe we have finally slipped past their strike radius," offered Chakotay. It was the best theory at the moment.

"With a prize as spectacular as this ship, I doubt it." Neelix shared his captain's doubts. "They either know where we're going or are setting a trap."

"During their _visit_, did they steal anything or successfully access the computer?" Janeway asked, absently tapping her fingertips on the briefing table.

Shifting in his chair, Kim replied, "Evidence is inconclusive regarding accessing the main computer. They were either really good at their infiltration or never got into position."

"Nothing was taken off the ship, Captain," Tuvok said.

Disgusted with the lack of results, Janeway moved on. "Warp status."

"Our make-shift assembly is holding." Torres gestured towards Seven. "With a few Borg tweaks, I'll be able to squeeze a few more lightyears out of it. However, our homemade assembly is about half way finished due to a small snag when synthesizing the casing alloy." Seeing the information received well by her captain, the Chief Engineer added, "I would recommend dropping to Warp 5."

That got a raised eyebrow, but Torres was relieved when Janeway nodded.

Lt. Paris piped in, "Seven and I believe we've found a nebula that'll be a suitable home for our passenger on Deck 12, Captain. It's only a few days off course."

Nodding, Janeway ordered for them to carry on and gave her senior staff a quick dismissal. _They are a good crew_, she told herself. Sitting in alone in the briefing room, the captain allowed her thoughts to drift as she prioritized the ever growing to-do list. First, they needed to drop their electromagnetic friend off at his new home. Then, they needed to find a new magnetic restrictor assembly or at the very least, the proper materials to construct one. Without knowing the status of the pirates, any stop – inhabited planet or not – would be an even greater risk.

Reaching for her cane from under the table, Janeway slowly stood and made her way to her quarters.

* * *

Janeway sighed.

Obviously, she wasn't going to be able to ignore it any longer. Her stomach rumbled once more, and she sighed again. Her stomach wanted lunch and a cup of coffee wasn't going to cut it.

Tapping the PADD on her desk, she mulled over a decision: waste the hour it would take to eat lunch, or suck it up and starve. Janeway leaned her head back against her chair's head rest and stared at the ceiling.

If she contacted Neelix, she wouldn't get a choice. He would toss together something extremely healthy and extremely tasteless, thanks to Seven, naturally. Even if she went to the Messhall, there would be no guarantee that she'd get the crew's lunch special anyway. There was the replicator, but the last time she replicated a bowl of ice cream it tasted like handmade soy-based dairy product. (Her sister, Phoebe, had dated a young man who prided himself on making homemade alternative foods, claiming that the Federation put mind control agents in replicated food.) Again, the replicator changes were courtesy of Seven.

Finally making a decision, Janeway was going to tell the Doctor enough was enough and that Seven's guardianship over her was going to end!

After all, if she was mobile, she was capable, right?

Just as Janeway was about to tap her combadge, the computer chirped as someone requested entrance into the Ready Room. Sighing, she bid them enter. Her eyes narrowed upon recognizing Seven, but her stomach sang a different tune at the sight of the large, covered silver tray.

Despite the cramp in her gut, Janeway barked, "If that's a salad, you can take it back."

Smirking in her unique way and immune to the captain's feisty nature, Seven strode to the desk and gently set down the tray. "It is not a salad." Placing her hand on the cover's knob, she continued before revealing the lunch, "The Doctor believes you have been a _good sport_ by sustaining his physical therapy program with little resistance, and as a result, he has lifted your nutritional regimen."

Janeway closed her eyes as she inhaled the delicious smell. Could it be what she thought it was?

"I asked Mr. Neelix to prepare you something he was certain you would enjoy, but not prone to indulge in." Seven lifted the cover to reveal a thick, juicy ribeye steak with a side of Neelix's seasonal veggies. "If this is agreeable, I shall remove the nutritional restrictions on your replicator access."

She really should have been upset, but Janeway just couldn't bring herself to spoil the moment's elation. Instead, she could only smile.

* * *

"Not hungry?" Chakotay asked taking a healthy bite of his salad. He watched as Janeway pushed the lettuce around with her fork. When she didn't reply, he continued, "I heard about that steak dinner. Apparently, Tom drooled all over his station."

"E 'stato delizioso." Janeway flashed her trademark smile. She started to hunt for the vegetables covered in the balsamic vinaigrette.

Nodding, Chakotay displayed his charming smile as his eyes twinkled. "The crew thinks you've finally house broken the resident Borg."

Snorting, Janeway replied before popping a captured tomato into her mouth, "They obviously don't know the whole story. I was outnumbered and outgunned. I didn't stand a chance."

"Still," he added, adopting a serious tone, "You've been a real trooper. The Doctor is genuinely impressed with how you took to the entire situation. I did take the liberty of assuring him that this may never happen again – you being a model patient and all."

With a wicked glint in her eye, Janeway glanced at Chakotay. "It was the lesser of two evils. Desert?" At his grin, she sleeked out of her seat, careful to keep a hand on the table for balance.

"Cheesecake?" he asked as a rather large slice of New York-style cheesecake slid in front of him.

Slowly making her way back to her chair with her own desert, Janeway chuckled, "A bad habit I picked up."

Chakotay eyed her suspiciously for a moment. "What other bad habits have you picked up during this lapse of character?"

The rest of evening went rather well.

Thankfully, Chakotay didn't attempt to linger as he normally did during their weekly dining dates. He always tried chatting her up, trying to catch her unawares to some new tidbit of ship's gossip. Every once in awhile, her XO managed to sideswipe her with some particularly interesting love triangle or squabble taking place on the lower decks, and as per her rule, the captain didn't get involved with crew fraternizations until it impacted ship function or morale. That's when she'd order Chakotay to get involved and to straighten the mess out as discretely as possible. He used to show some initiative by resolving the personal problems himself prior to informing his captain, at least that was the case until several months ago. To this day, Chakotay still didn't like discussing the matter.

* * *

In the wee hours, Janeway lay in her bed, trying unsuccessfully to fall asleep. She flipped and flopped. It wasn't the nerves twitching in her legs or back. It wasn't the worry she usually felt for her ship and crew. Looking at the lounger on the other side of the room, she sighed. The captain had gotten used to Seven being with her, near her. This was a very abnormal feeling and not one Janeway was accustomed to experiencing – Delta Quadrant or not.

Needless to say, she was pleasantly surprised when Seven entered her quarters at 0630 as she stood at her desk, taking a sip of coffee as she watched Seven.

Upon entry, Seven nodded once at Janeway and proceeded to retrieve the captain's cane and uniform jacket off the back of a chair. She set the cane against the desk as she stood behind Janeway, jacket opened.

Obediently, the captain set down the coffee mug and slipped her arms in the jacket's sleeves. Seven ran her hand down the captain's back, smoothing out any wrinkles. Janeway concealed a shiver as she adjusted the garment on her shoulders. Of course, Seven of Nine running her hands over the shoulders in attempt to help the yoke to settle didn't help much either. The ex-drone stepped around to check Janeway's appearance.

Under the scrutiny, Janeway got a bemused look on her face, and mischievously stated, "I feel like I'm being sent off for the first day of school."

The mildly irritated look Seven gave her before disappearing into the en suite was not lost on Janeway. Seven was obviously not in the mood for their casual teasing. She pondered what could possibly be wrong. This had been their morning routine for the last week or so as Seven decided once again to attended Janeway's physical therapy sessions. Her face softened as the feelings of the previous night's musings returned.

Seven returned, showed the four pips in her hand and proceeded to place them on Janeway's tunic collar. Normally, Janeway would attach them to a clean tunic the night before, but the still lingering effects of the neurotoxin made such delicate hand-eye coordination tasks difficult. And there were some things she wouldn't ask Seven to do.

Seven sighed ever so lightly, audible to Janeway only by proximity. She stepped back to check her work, and said, "We have your final evaluation with the Doctor. He will decide if you should continue with the physical therapy regimen. We are to meet him in Holodeck Two at 0700."

Nodding, the captain retrieved the cane from its position leaning on the desk and moved towards the door. She knew Seven well enough to know when she was uncomfortable or unsure with a situation, but Janeway still couldn't really deduce why.

"I can tell you what he's going to say," She allowed as they stepped onto the turbolift. "He's going to say I've done a remarkable job – thanks to you." Janeway flashed Seven a happy grin, and was pleased to see an appreciative twinkle in the ex-drone's eyes. "And he's going to say that I need to keep up the activity, which undoubtedly, I won't do without the proper motivation."

Seven pondered the captain's statement as they walked slowly to the Holodeck. Every time the captain tried to pick up the pace, she would stagger, causing Seven to instinctively reach out to assist. Without much thought, she offered, "I could offer the necessary motivation for you to continue your physical activity." A moment of uncertainty rushed through Seven, but she was exhilarated and relieved when Janeway continued to smile.

"That would be a . . ," the captain paused searching for the right word, "lovely idea, Seven. Despite the circumstances, I have to admit that I've rather enjoyed our time together."

"As have I, Captain." Seven took a slow breath as she followed Janeway into the Holodeck.


	2. Chapter 02  The Haunting of Deck Twelve

**Running Up That Hill:**  
A Janeway / Seven Series

**Author:** ladydameon**  
Co-Author(s):** Lain Stardust**  
Beta(s):** Captain Java

**General Disclaimer(s):** See previous chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 2:** The Haunting of Deck Twelve Vignette**  
Rating:** G / T

**Summary:** Seven of Nine joins Captain Janeway on the Holodeck to discuss Neelix's means of 'supervising' the four Borg children among other things.**  
**

**Author's Note:** In this chapter, we're just opening the door a little wider… Reading the previous chapter is recommended. If necessary, please visit Chrissie's Transcripts Site for a reliable transcript of _The Haunting of Deck Twelve_ or Star Trek . com for a more detailed synopsis.

* * *

**[After the episode…]**

Waiting patiently outside Holodeck 1, Seven of Nine was rather surprised when Captain Janeway briskly ambled down the corridor despite the aid of the tritanium cane. She expected the older woman to arrive at least five minutes late to their scheduled activities due to the captain's current convalescence. Although she would never wish any ill upon her captain, Seven had developed a great fondness for Janeway and had taken satisfaction in their interactions.

Once Janeway was within acceptable conversing range, the Borg offered her typical greeting which the captain brightly returned. Seven instructed the computer to load a program and the pair entered. She enjoyed this particular Holodeck program – introduced to her by Janeway – as it managed to create a sense of serenity. The duo had already visited the picturesque setting three times.

Being low tide at mid-afternoon, the waves crested and broke a great distance from the coarse, sandy shore that was dotted with shells, both fragmented and whole. The water's color was the typical grayish blue of the mid-Atlantic along the eastern coastline of what used to be the United States. The seagulls called in the distance as they glided above their heads on the salty ocean breeze. The sky was clear and blue as the white-yellow sun descended to eventually slip beyond the western horizon filled with rolling sand dunes and tall, sweeping grasses.

Silently, the pair walked along the shores of Cape Henlopen. During their first stroll together, Janeway had explained to the ever attentive Seven of Nine the historical significance of the area and her own personal connection to it.

"I assume by your silence that Neelix had no problems with the children." Janeway relished the sand between her naked toes as the swash gently rolled over her feet, it being her habit to quickly divest herself of footwear and roll up her pants-legs when they utilized one of the beach scenarios. She glanced over at Seven who had adopted a similar state. Seeing the ex-drone attempt to traverse sand in high-heels had been quite comical, but thankfully, the captain managed to keep a straight face.

"He told them about the electromagnetic life form." Seven tried not to sigh from her exasperation over the matter.

"There's no harm in that," Janeway countered.

"When their regeneration cycles were complete, I was inundated with questions regarding the creature's existence and validity of Neelix's story." The entire situation was most inconvenient. "For the last few days, they have attempted to access information regarding Deck 12, Section 42 and researched any available sensor data pertaining to the events of the creature's arrival on _Voyager_." Seven paused in her summary when she noticed Janeway's smile. "You find this amusing, Kathryn."

"A little," Janeway admitted lightly. She could only blink as Seven stopped walking.

"Your order was that they not be aware of the creature."

"Yes."

"Neelix violated that order."

"Perhaps, but the creature was leaving."

"Irrelevant."

Janeway chuckled and nodded. "You have to know when to pick your battles, Seven." Not waiting for a reply, she resumed walking, pleased when Seven followed suit. A few moments passed before the captain suddenly stopped and stabbed her cane into the sand. Leaning against the aid, she asked, "What happened?"

Briefly, Seven considered denying that anything had happened. "The children attempted to access restricted files after they collaborated the story with Naomi Wildman. Ultimately, they would eventually have succeeded had Icheb not alerted me to their activities."

"Experimenting with covert operations now, are they?" A grin threatened as Janeway studied Seven's deepening frown. "Don't tell me you don't see the irony in this."

"Indeed." Seven took a step, indicating her desire to resume their walk.

The Doctor had been quite pleased with Seven accompanying the captain on her Holodeck strolls, especially the beach scenario, as it offered suitable low-impact resistance exercise.

Sensing any further teasing would not be appreciated, Janeway shared a bit of her rationale for the entire situation as a peace offering. "It's not like they wouldn't have eventually found out. I just didn't want their curiosity to get the better of them and potentially get _Voyager_ in a bad situation_ before_ we found a compatible nebula."

"They are erratic."

Clearly amused, Janeway replied, "They're children."

"Yes, I am quite aware."

"As I recall, you had a similar conversation with Chakotay a few months ago, and from what I can tell, there's been considerable progress." The captain really was proud of how Seven of Nine had eventually taken to her guardianship over the four children. All parties concerned had grown and settled exponentially. As she had taken them under her wing, they had taken her into their hearts. But after the incident with Icheb's parents, Janeway hoped the other three would have an easier time when (or if) they left _Voyager_.

Seven allowed the current topic of conversation, which she had no desire to continue, lull into a comfortable silence.

"How are the compartment modifications going?" Janeway asked.

"For the hand phasers?" Seven asked for clarification. Her eyes were drawn to the fiery streaks in the captain's hair, highlighted by the setting sun. At Janeway's nod, she continued, "Commander Tuvok and I believe we have established satisfactory protocols. The compartment and phaser will only become active when an Intruder Alert is sounded and the children are present to claim the device. You should have a report outlining the suggested protocols tomorrow afternoon."

As they continued, Seven was all too aware that Janeway was steadily losing momentum. "Icheb has opted to undergo more advanced training with Tuvok."

"From what Tuvok has told me, he's made remarkable progress, takes his responsibilities very seriously."

"Icheb has also proven to be an invaluable assistant in dealing with the other children."

Smiling, Janeway turned and walked inland a few steps. Using her cane, she gracefully dropped down onto the warm, dry sand, safe from the rolling swash. "You're proud of him," the captain said, softly.

It was hard to keep the evidence from her voice as Seven replied, "Icheb will be an asset to _Voyager_ one day." She dropped down onto the sand, much to her distaste.

An enigmatic smile slowly crept across Janeway's face. "He's always been an asset."

Seven turned, looking intently into her captain's eyes, searching her face. Try as she might to divine any deeper meaning, she could not. However, the look was now familiar and Seven was no longer anxious over the induced feelings.

The four children rescued off a damaged Borg Cube several months ago had done wonders for Seven of Nine. They had thrust her into a greater understanding of humanity and, most importantly, a greater understanding of herself. However, the growth wasn't simply amongst the Borg. All of _Voyager_ had been affected by the children, and Captain Janeway wholeheartedly believed the ship and crew were better for it.

A breeze off the ocean tousled Janeway's hair. She smiled, closing her eyes as she turned her face into the gust.

The young woman continued to curiously observe her companion. She wished to inquire about the peace this illusion created and possibly, how she may obtain her own someday. However, this was not the moment for such discussions as Seven was getting apt at reading Kathryn Janeway's body language and the signs of fatigue.

"How does your physical training with Commander Tuvok progress, Kathryn?" Seven asked, breaking into the serenity with a definitive purpose.

Opening her eyes, Janeway casted a sideways glance at Seven, aware of the unique criteria in which the young woman used her name. This was an important question. One in which the young woman expected an answer. "Some days are rougher than others, but it gets a little bit easier every day. I dare speculate that he's enjoying this, taking some sort of perverse pleasure from torturing me."

"I am pleased. However, your exhibited stamina today does not equate to your previous intervals of improvement." Seven tilted her head, inclined her implant in an attempt to prompt a confession. After a beat, she said, "You have not utilized your cane as you should whilst on the Bridge."

Narrowing her eyes slightly, squaring her gaze on Seven, Janeway set her jaw. "Conjecture."

"Fact."

"Proof?"

"Eyewitness accounts."

Sighing, the captain asked, "Who ratted me out?"

"Lieutenant Paris and Commander Tuvok have both expressed concern to the Doctor regarding your physical limitations." Seeing Janeway shake her head, Seven added, "They do not wish for you to inadvertently injure yourself and prolong this situation." There was no real need to mention that Mr. Paris had asked her directly which, in turn, led her to a conversation with the EMH.

A snappy retort was on the tip of Janeway's tongue, but she held it. Taking a slow breath, she gazed back out into the rolling surf, absently poking her cane into the sand. It wouldn't due to lash out at Seven of Nine. The young woman had risen far beyond the call of duty. A feather-light touch on the back of her hand drew her attention back to Seven.

Timidly, the younger woman asked, "Kathryn, would you please continue to use the cane until the Doctor deems it unnecessary?"

Janeway could only nod. The clear relief in those large blue eyes seemed to pull at her somehow.

The rest of the hour easily slipped away as the pair enjoyed the ocean surf. Upon deactivating the program, Seven of Nine deftly retrieved their discarded foot wear. After slipping back into her shoes, she aided Janeway and silently escorted the captain back to her quarters.

Stepping inside the opened pneumatic doors, Janeway flashed a crooked smile, saying, "Thank you for the lovely evening, Seven." She honestly relished their interactions, but continued to hold back in expressing her enthusiasm as it wasn't clear how it would be received.

"Always." The word was light and warm. Snapping to, Seven quickly asked, "Do you require any additional assistance, Captain?"

The smile slipped into a grin. "No, I don't think so, but you'll be the first one I call if I do."

It was meant to be a quip, but Seven took it as matter-of-fact. "Acceptable," she nodded, taking a step back. "Goodnight, Captain." With that said, the Borg turned, heading towards the turbolift.

Janeway simply looked after her. "Goodnight, Seven."


	3. Chapter 03 Unimatrix Zero Vignette

**Running Up That Hill:**  
A Janeway / Seven Series

**Author:** ladydameon**  
Co-Author(s):** Lain Stardust**  
Beta(s):** Captain Java

**General Disclaimer(s):** See previous chapter(s).

* * *

**Chapter 3:** Unimatrix Zero Vignette**  
Rating:** G / T

**Summary:** The Doctor and Seven of Nine discover the ramifications of away team's assimilation.

**Author's Note:** Reading the previous chapters is recommended. If necessary, please visit Chrissie's Transcripts Site for a reliable transcript of _Unimatrix Zero I & II_ or Star Trek . com for a more detailed synopsis.

* * *

**[A day after the episode…]**

Chief Medical Officer's Log – Supplemental, Stardate 54017.4: _I'm happy to report that Captain Janeway, Tuvok and B'Elanna Torres have all been released to quarters, and I don't see any reason why they can't resume full-active duty by the end of the week._

At the scheduled time, Seven of Nine reported to Sickbay as requested by the EMH. Her gaze swept the room, confirming that Lieutenant Torres, Commander Tuvok and Captain Janeway had already been released. It had been approximately seventy-two hours since their return to _Voyager_, and the de-assimilation had proceeded without complications – as far as the crew was concerned. However, the Doctor's request for her consultation left Seven feeling apprehensive.

She gave her usual greeting, stopping at the Sickbay's computer console. A quick glance to the readout indicated that the Doctor was reviewing Tuvok's medical files as a pair of holographic Tuvoks displaying assimilation and post-assimilation data were projected within the surgical bay alcove.

"Ah, Seven, I apologize for the early hour, but it's less likely we'll be interrupted." The EMH moved around the console, and imputed a series of commands. "I have some questions—"

"Doctor," Seven quickly interjected. She had expected as much at his scheduled summons, but did not expect to be privy to this much medical data. Certainly, the hologram had not forgotten about her eidetic memory or doctor-patient confidentiality.

As if expecting the concerns, the EMH waved away the unasked question – wanting to get to the issue at hand. "It's alright, Seven. I received clearance for your consultation, and I'm sure I don't have to remind you that this is all strictly confidential and classified." He had deleted the post-assimilation projection of Tuvok, leaving only the full-sized assimilated one. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but the implant configuration would imply a tactical logistics drone."

Stepping around the console, Seven of Nine observed the projection unobstructed. "Please display only skeletal and cybernetic components."

After a few beeps, the Doctor fulfilled her request.

Completing a circuit around the holographic Tuvok drone, Seven nodded, "You are correct, Doctor."

Nodding, the Doctor explained, "Since Commander Tuvok was actually connected to the Collective, some of his implants gained a tighter hold on his physiological systems. I was able to remove ninety-five percent – opting to leave the enhanced elbow replacement and a neural relay in his cerebral cortex." He paused. "As far as the remaining nanoprobes, I figure they would continue – with some slight reprogramming – to maintain the implants until they either become dormant or cease functioning, which would drop his implant ratio to three percent."

The holographic Tuvok drone disappeared, allowing one of B'Elanna Torres to appear.

"Now from what I can tell, Lieutenant Torres was configured for a maintenance drone." The EMH shifted the display to skeletal and cybernetic components.

Again, Seven walked around the hologram. "Correct." She noted a few changes in the configuration since her time in the Collective, but nothing drastic.

"As far as her implants go, B'Elanna will be left with a sub-vocal processor and nanoprobes which will eventually go the way of Tuvok's. Since she was never connected to the Collective, the cross sectioning of the hemispheres didn't result in any brain matter loss. I just had to remove the connections from the skull." The Doctor discontinued the Torres hologram.

"Implant ratio?"

Looking up, the holographic doctor answered, "One percent with the remaining active nanoprobes." Now it was the delicate matter of discussing the captain. "Before we continue, Seven, I must remind you not to discuss this with anyone."

"I understand, Doctor," said Seven, who had already been briefed by Tuvok. They were concerned about the captain but why, exactly, confounded her. The captain wasn't connected to the Hive Mind. The Doctor already indicated to the senior staff that a majority of her implants had been successfully removed.

"We're going to back track a bit here, so bear with me."

A holographic Janeway – in uniform – appeared in the surgical bay.

"This is the captain _before_ her accident on Liratic Prime, with reasonable extrapolations of her injuries sustained over the years."

Quickly, the image rotated and morphed to display a magnification of the lower lumbar region as he spoke, continuing to manipulate the image to point out several other regions of interest. With a few buttons, the Doctor projected the assimilated Janeway and switched to the skeletal/cybernetic view.

Seven of Nine circled the holographic Janeway.

"As I'm sure you've noticed, all evidence of any previous injury has been completely removed – as if she had _never_ been injured before.… I mention this because B'Elanna and Tuvok still retained the forensic evidence of prior damage. To add to the mystery, I haven't been able to classify the implant configuration nor her prescribed function in the Collective."

She listened to the Doctor's ponderings. This was why he requested her consultation. This was why Tuvok stressed the necessity for secrecy as this implant configuration was unlike anything Seven of Nine had ever witnessed.

Was it some sort of new drone? Had the Collective amassed so much new data, technology or biological distinctiveness since her disconnection?

"The Captain's implant ratio is roughly five percent, and is entirely integrated into her nervous system. It's quite remarkable really, since once she recovers, she'll have total neural restoration and motor control in her legs and lower back."

Seven stood, hands clasped behind her back, as she studied the sole implant that seemed to wrap and wind around Janeway's spinal cord like a vine – meticulous and extremely delicate in design. She felt a strange pain in her chest, but was unable to define the cause. However, the words _total restoration and control_ rang in her mind. Only Seven truly knew how much the captain had struggled to regain her pre-assimilation mobility and had never stopped pushing herself to regain more of it.

"Even if I could remove the implant, the spinal column would have to be completely removed, nerve tissue totally regenerated, and despite my excellent skills, _Voyager_ doesn't have the proper facilities for that degree of surgery or rehabilitation." Sighing, the Doctor pressed a few more buttons – once again enlarging the lumbar region. "Not to mention that I would probably do more harm than good given the complexity of this implant. Look, do you see how small the implant tendrils are that snake out along the entire cauda equina?" He ordered the computer for maximum magnification. "It has seamlessly merged with her nervous system."

Seven of Nine knew the Collective had more efficient means of reinforcing the captain's weakened physical state, but this was totally unexpected, which lead her to believe things had changed in the Collective. The question, however, remained: for what purpose.…

* * *

Seven of Nine entered the captain's quarters.

"Now before you say anything," Janeway was standing next to the replicator, reaching to retrieve a cup of coffee, "be aware that I haven't had my first cup of coffee today."

"Impressive." Seven stated, pleased by the captain's pleasant mood. Patiently, she waited as Janeway enjoyed her first sip, and added, "Perhaps you are losing your affinity for the beverage."

Now, Janeway did laugh as she carefully maneuvered herself to her sofa, coffee in one hand while wielding the cane in the other. "The Doctor placed me on medical leave for at least a week and told me in no uncertain terms that I'm to use this damn cane."

"It is fortunate you did not recycle it."

With a snort, the captain lowered herself onto the sofa. Once settled, she asked, "So, to what do I owe this visit? Business or pleasure?" Janeway gazed up at the Borg, taking another sip. Her eyes searched Seven's face and posture as the young woman broke eye contact and shifted slightly.

Unlike when she interacted with other individuals, Seven of Nine didn't feel the pressure to respond quickly. "How are you feeling?" she finally asked, a tad timidly.

Smiling, Janeway replied, "I'm sore as hell, but don't feel any worse for wear." She was certain Seven had alternative motives for this early morning visit, but she wouldn't press the matter.

"There have been no negative repercussions to your de-assimilation?" Slowly, Seven moved to join Janeway on the sofa.

_She's hedging_. Janeway was sure of it. "No," she answered, shaking her head. "Actually, I feel ten times better, despite the stiffness." She paused briefly. "When are you scheduled to consult with the Doctor?"

"I met with him prior to coming here."

Janeway continued to drink her coffee, content to allow Seven time to organize her thoughts.

"Your remaining implant is unique."

"Oh?" The captain hadn't received a very in-depth, medical report from the EMH, yet. It was supposed to be on her desk by that afternoon.

"The spinal clamps are standard procedure for lumbar reinforcements." Seven looked directly at Janeway, wanting to properly gauge her reaction. "Neural regeneration is time consuming and inefficient when more expedient and robust measures have already been established. The Collective should have simply replaced the damaged area with cybernetic systems. Instead, the affected central nervous system has been repaired. The Doctor estimates that you shall regain total mobility."

"Maybe since my consciousness wasn't connected—"

"No," Seven interrupted. "Although you were not part of the Hive, the nanoprobes in your bloodstream still transmitted your physical and cognitive parameters to the Collective to help establish your function and determine if any further implants were necessary."

Janeway tilted her head, waiting for Seven to continue.

"Commander Tuvok's and Lieutenant Torres's functions were clear, whereas your intended function within the Collection was not."

"This bothers you," the captain said, voice low.

"Does it not bother you?" Seven countered.

"No." Janeway didn't miss the subtle twitch of Seven's jaw and shoulder. Gesturing for the younger woman to join her on the sofa, she asked, "Do any of the away team's remaining implants pose a current threat to ship's security?"

"Tuvok's neural relay would present the greatest security threat, but the Doctor has successfully disengaged all transmitting capabilities." Seven had made certain of this, and even insisted they reprogram a series of nanoprobes as a failsafe – to prohibit any 'repair' to the implant. In fact, the only way for the relay to become active again would be if Tuvok was re-assimilated.

"And B'Elanna?"

The Borg shook her head. "No."

"Myself?"

Again, Seven replied in the negative.

"Well," Janeway gently rested a hand on Seven's knee, waiting until she made eye contact, "I have every confidence in this crew, and you should too." A strange expression crossed Seven's face. Unsure what to make of it, the captain leaned away, removing her hand but a hand stopped her. Surprised, Janeway searched her young companion's expression.

"Having the implant does not bother you, Kathryn?"

The emotion behind the blue eyes which focused so intently onto her own pulled at Janeway. She felt her head starting to shake before a concrete thought formed.

"No, Seven, the implant doesn't bother me," the captain rasped. It was starting to make sense.

Releasing Janeway's hand, Seven stood. "The Doctor has indicated additional physical therapy would be beneficial to your recovery. Would you be adverse to a walk on the Holodeck?"

Bowing her head, the captain couldn't stop the grin that exploded across her face. She looked up in time to see Seven curiously watching her, waiting. "I'd like that."


	4. Chapter 04 Drive Vignette

**Running Up That Hill:**  
A Janeway / Seven Series

**Author:** ladydameon**  
Co-Author(s):** Lain Stardust**  
Beta(s):** Captain Java

**General Disclaimer(s):** See previous chapter(s).

**

* * *

Chapter 4:** Drive Vignette**  
Rating:** G / T

**Summary:** Captain Janeway gives a swim lesson to Seven of Nine.

**Special Note:** While _current_ naval law does not support the common misconception that captains can officiate at a marriage ceremony, there are several instances within the _Star Trek_ universe when ships' captains have held such authority. Considering the above as well as the fact that Janeway officiated at Tom and B'Elanna's wedding in _Course: Oblivion_, we are going to go with the idea that in the Trek universe, she can in fact perform marriages.

**Author's Note:** Reading the previous chapter(s) is recommended. If necessary, please visit Chrissie's Transcripts Site for a reliable transcript of _Drive_ or Star Trek . com for a more detailed synopsis. Undoubtedly, many will recognize that _Imperfection_ aired before _Drive_ and _Repression_, and are viewed in that same order on the Season 7 DVDs. This is our first major (3 total) deviation from visual canon, which is not done arbitrarily. Unlike the series' previous rearrangement of episodes for presentation purposes, _Imperfection_ wasn't _meant_ to be shown out of the production order, and as such, the episode creates several key contradictions in the _Voyager_ timeline: Tom Paris wearing a wedding ring _before _his marriage to B'Elanna Torres (_Imperfection_), the new _Delta Flyer_ being constructed before it's tested (_Drive_), etc.

**

* * *

[Scene Insert:** The following scene takes place _before_ the first Briefing Room scene where Janeway approves entrance in the Antarian Trans-stellar Rally.**]**

"You trust me, don't you?"

"Yes, Kathryn."

"Then come here," ordered Janeway who stood at the bottom of three small steps leading into the Olympic-sized pool. She offered her hand to Seven when she came within reach. "I know you're not afraid of the water," the captain commented appealing to the younger woman's pride.

Seven frowned as she regarded her attire – yet again. She had opted for a black swimsuit with electric blue 'racing' stripes along her sides. The garment completely covered her torso, back and thighs, cutting off just above the knees. Unlike Janeway's, it had a sweeping neckline and one-quarter length sleeves.

"I do not like the sensation of water."

Regardless, Seven took the offered hand as she descended the stairs, stepping into the cool water. Her eyes wandered over Janeway's swimsuit, realizing it was the same one worn during the Doctor's rehabilitation exercises.

Still holding her hand, Janeway guided Seven further into the pool, stopping around the 140 cm mark. "See, this isn't so bad." She attempted to release the hand she held captive, but it did not let go. Eyeing Seven with amused suspicion, Janeway gave a reassuring squeeze before temporarily submerging herself underwater. Pushing the stray hairs back, she asked, "You want to try?"

"No."

"It'll help you adjust to the water's temperature."

"My nanoprobes are functioning adequately."

Smiling, the captain allowed herself to relax, allowing the water to suspend her body. After a few moments, she noticed Seven start to relax as she got used to the sensation. "I'm sure you already know the mechanics of swimming."

"Correct."

"You're just not comfortable in the water."

"Correct."

"Why?"

Seven regarded Janeway with an even expression as she never really thought about _why_ she didn't like being in the water, just that it felt . . . off.

Janeway tried a different tactic. "What is it about being in the water that makes you uncomfortable?" She could tell Seven was honestly focusing on her question. Then, it all clicked. Looking down at her floating body, she smiled, "You don't like the weightlessness, the loss of control."

Their hands still linked, Janeway returned her feet to the rough concrete-like texture of the pool bottom. She walked around the ex-drone, turning her. "There are several basics to swimming you _have_ to become comfortable with, Seven." Before the younger woman could offer the obvious counter agreement, she added, "Yes, I realize you know _how_ to swim, but I would rather we not wait for a crisis to test your practical aptitude. So, we're going to start with floating."

If she could get Seven comfortable with floating, the rest should naturally follow, or so Janeway hoped.

"Very well."

Dipping her head, Janeway quickly smothered the threatening smirk. "Good." Carefully, she extricated her hand from the near death grip. Stepping to stand at Seven's side, the captain calmly instructed, "Lower yourself into the water by bending your knees a bit. Good, now lean back."

Janeway placed – what she hoped was – a reassuring hand on the middle of Seven's back while sliding her other arm under her legs. She watched as the young woman stiffened when her head touched the water.

"It's alright," the older woman softly cooed, willing the ex-drone to relax. "Just breathe."

Feeling all of her muscles seize, Seven of Nine didn't understand this irrational fear, and she certainly didn't like experiencing it. A moment of concern crossed her features as she considered the physical strain supporting her frame may cause her captain. Her eyes nervously darted to Janeway's.

As if knowing what was on the young woman's mind, Janeway flashed a grin. "I won't let you sink." She ignored the arm that wrapped around her waist, pulling at the fabric of her swimsuit. "Slow, deep breaths, Seven – that's it." Once certain that Seven had gained some semblance of control, she continued her instructions, "Now, lift your feet off the bottom—"

"Kathryn, I don't think that would be wise," interrupted the Borg as she shifted to right herself. However her movements were stalled by a firm glare from Janeway and an equally stern 'relax.' She slowly raised her feet off the pool floor. Instinctively, Seven pressed her fingertips into the small of Janeway's back as she sought physical contact. Water gently lapped against her starburst implant on her right check, causing a flinch.

Once again, Janeway soothingly repeated, "Breathe, Seven, just breathe."

Slowly, Seven found herself relaxing, trusting the arms supporting her. The tension in her muscles seemed to uncoil as the water seemed to push her upward instead of dragging her under. Her brows furrowed as she attempted to identify the sounds vibrating in the water. She could hear the warp core humming, the subtle shake of the ship cruising at warp. For the first time, Seven realized the pool house had a skylight roof. Natural holographic light streamed down, indicating the hour to be around 0900 hours – if the pool was indeed in San Francisco. Slowly her need to maintain a hold on the captain lessened as her eyes drifted closed.

Janeway smiled as she watched Seven's eyes close. Carefully, she lowered her arms from Seven, allowing her to float totally on her own. Her next step was to take a step away, but there was that hand on her back, just resting there.…

However, before the captain could devise how to extricate herself, Seven abruptly tensed up, her eyes and mouth flew open. She gasped. Fear seized her as she felt her head begin to submerge, yet her body did not sink any further. Puzzled by the absence of doom, Seven returned to rational thought. Hand tightly gripping the material of Janeway's swimsuit, she looked into concerned eyes.

"Want to keep trying?" the captain asked.

Grateful that Janeway did not question her reaction, Seven nodded as she settled her breathing and allowed her body to once again relax. It wasn't until the captain's hands were no longer supporting her that Seven realized the comfort drawn from the physical contact.

The practice continued without further event, and the ex-drone had gained a suitable amount of confidence with the task. Things even progressed enough for Seven of Nine to actually demonstrate her swimming technique. However, the fun stopped when Janeway suggested she take a dive off one of the platforms or springboards. Seven declined.

"Next time?" Janeway asked

"Perhaps." Seven said entering the pool's locker room.

"Naomi will be quite pleased when she finds out you're comfortable swimming," the captain commented, following Seven around a series of lockers until she located her own. Opening the door, she continued, "She's been feeling the crew out for additional swim partners for some time now."

Seven hesitated in removing her swimsuit as Janeway was already out of hers. "She has never mentioned a desire to swim." Her eyes watched flexing muscles as the captain started to dress. Slowly, she slipped out of her own swimsuit.

Pulling a grey tank over her head, Janeway explained, "She knows you're not too keen on the idea." She sat on the center bench, pulling on grey boot socks.

With a sense of urgency, Seven slipped into her dermaplastic bio-suit. By the time Janeway stood to fasten her uniform pants, she was already dressed and situating her hair.

Any further conversation was halted by a hail from Chakotay indicating that Paris and Kim wished to speak with her at her earliest convenience. Janeway attempted to hedge what this meeting was going to entail, but her XO refused to give any hints. Seven of Nine took this as an opportunity to abruptly excuse herself, and quickly exited.

The captain simply finished her conversation with Chakotay, indicating that she would be ready to meet in about ten minutes. However, she couldn't take her gaze off of Seven's retreating back. She had observed the young woman's movements through her reflection in the gleaming lockers but not in any great detail.

**

* * *

[Scene Insert:** The following scene takes place _between_ Torres accepting Paris' marriage proposal and the 'honeymoon' onboard the _Delta Flyer_.**]**

"May I join you?"

Seven looked up to see Captain Janeway, still in dress uniform, smile down at her. Taking a slow breath which seemed to fortify her restless stomach, she nodded to the chair across from her while uttering her usual greeting. Thankfully, it appeared the captain did not notice her edginess.

"Did you enjoy the ceremony?" Janeway settled herself at a slight angle, legs crossed with hands clasped over her knee.

The captain seemed different in her dress uniform, but Seven could not deduce precisely why.

"The proceedings were rather subdued for the emotional significance the crew had placed on the event." While Janeway's gaze was diverted to watching couples quietly talk on the other side of the Mess Hall, Seven took the opportunity to study the older woman's profile: the strong jaw line, intense blue-grey eyes.… Suddenly, those eyes were focused back on her, and Seven glanced away.

"That's usually how commitment ceremonies go . . . for the most part." Janeway flashed a crooked smile; her expression was warm, welcoming.

"Have you attended many of these marriage ceremonies?"

With a shrug, the captain replied, "I've been to my fair share I suppose. Of course, I presided over most of them since earning my fourth pip."

At the sound of the pneumatic doors, the pair watched as a whispering couple slinked out of the Mess Hall, holding hands. The atmosphere was comfortable and relaxed as Janeway and Seven maintained their status quo and nestled in an isolated corner together.

While idly holding an empty glass, Seven said softly, so as to not attract unwarranted attention, "I have been contemplating my own possible participation with marriage. My research into the matter has created only more questions."

Patiently, the captain waited, a hand now resting on the table top as she was unconcerned with the chatter amongst the remaining crew.

"Commander Chakotay asked if I have ever considered marriage and would I eventually take part in the ritual myself."

Janeway arched an eyebrow. She had seen the pair speaking shortly after Tom and B'Elanna left, but had no clue what her first officer would say to Seven at a wedding of all places.

Looking directly at the older woman, Seven let a bit of ire show. "The more I think about the prospect, the angrier I feel."

Turning to face Seven fully, the captain rested both hands on table, mere inches from where Seven clinched her glass. "Why's that?"

"Since our first interaction, Axum was not content with who I have become since being freed from the Collective, and as I've had time to reflect on our exchanges, I realize he attempted to mold me into the Annika Hansen he remembered." Seven went rigid as she spoke, her annoyance clearly evident in her eyes and voice. "I do not remember being Annika Hansen."

"Then don't be Annika Hansen," Janeway rasped, voice low and husky as she rested a hand gently over Seven's own.

"Who am I supposed to be?"

"You."

The answer didn't seem to pacify the ex-drone as she glared at Janeway, her eyes narrowing slightly. "It is hard to be oneself when everyone expects one to be someone else." Seven let her anger have freer reign because the more she held the emotion in check, the more powerful the feelings became. "You yourself said I seemed more human in Unimatrix Zero."

Holding up her free hand, the captain said, "I never actually said human."

"A technicality."

"Maybe, but the sentiment remains the same." Seeing Seven about to object, Janeway quickly continued. "Being human isn't a simple matter of DNA and physical appearance, it's about what's inside – the heart, the essence of who you are, not what you are." A pause. "How comfortable you are with yourself."

Comfortable, that was what Janeway really wanted to say; that was how Seven had appeared in Unimatrix Zero. However, the captain resisted the urge of correcting the young woman. The conversational waters were murky enough as it was.

Silence once again settled between them. Seven found she couldn't be angry at Janeway, but she still didn't completely understand what the captain was trying to explain. Seven of Nine was Borg. Annika Hansen was her human counterpart. It was a clean divergence of identity, simple and absolute, wasn't it? Didn't she simply have to choose to be one or the other? Wasn't it her goal to eventually become completely human? So lost was she in her pondering that when her thoughts stilled, Seven was captivated by the friendly, welcoming face still sitting across from her and the hand now firmly holding her own.

"This matter will undoubtedly take further consideration and thought." Seven said without really realizing it.

Squeezing the younger woman's hand before releasing it, Janeway leaned back. "Yes, it will."

"However, it still does not illustrate the necessity for marriage. If two people have chosen to embark on a monogamous relationship, why go through an archaic ceremony?" Seven asked, wanting to divert the conversation from the deeper issue.

Blinking a few times, the captain cleared her throat. "Well, there are all types of reasons why people choose to get married: legal, religious, romantic—"

"Romance is inconsequential."

"Oh, I don't know. There's some pretty convincing evidence to the contrary."

"The concept of romance is vague, superfluous and deceptive," spat Seven, remembering her foray into dating under the Doctor's guidance.

"How so?" Janeway asked. The young woman had barely scratched the surface of romance and had already come away with two unfavorable experiences. What was that old adage? Once burned, twice shy.

"Isn't the purpose of romance to curry the favor of an individual?"

The captain nodded, waiting to see where the Borg took this.

"My first date was a failure," Seven stated as if that was enough. After a moment, she added, "I've observed the crew's attempts at facilitating romantic endeavors amongst themselves and other species. The entire process routinely appears counterproductive to the desired end result."

Janeway couldn't really argue that point. She had on numerous occasions observed (and heard) the overzealous antics of her crew in their pursuit for romantic companionship, and unfortunately, some situations required her direct involvement. After her last attempt of nudging Seven into expanding her emotional base to include romantic, the captain was extra cautious as to how she should approach the topic while allowing Seven to develop her own outlook. She must have been quiet for too long.…

"My experience with Axum demonstrated romantic behavior to be inconsistent and impractical."

_Oh, boy_. Janeway had walked into a minefield with this one. "Let's simplify things a little bit." Noting Seven's quiet acceptance, she said, taking to gesturing with her hands, "Take a friendship, a really good friendship, one in which you feel completely comfortable with the other person. Now imagine taking that same friendship and intensifying it to include an even deeper level of comfort – sharing things you wouldn't normally. As things progress, you develop a common ground by sharing similar interests and hobbies, learn to express yourselves without hostility or arguments, and gradually, if the right chemistry is present, start to connect and bond through physical intimacy."

"That is the essence of romance?" Seven sounded skeptical.

"More or less, but every individual, every culture has their own outlook. Although there are quantifiable parameters, romance remains primarily a personal experience and a matter of perspective."

"Then, the Doctor's advice was incorrect."

"His advice was maybe not the most practical application for you."

"What realistic application for a romantic relationship would you suggest?"

Janeway's first inclination was to refuse to answer, but that damned expectant, trusting look managed to slip past her defenses – every time. Wishing for a cup of coffee, the captain cleared her throat, voice gravelly as she managed to answer, "Laissez-faire." At Seven's confused expression, the captain continued, "I think you may be over analyzing romance and relationships in general. Just take a step back, do some more research. There's certainly no rush or pressure, despite what anyone might tell you."

The relief in Seven's eyes was almost tangible. She was torn in her own desires. On one side, Seven wanted nothing to do with the mundane trivialities of the crew's emotional lives. On the other hand, she desperately sought companionship. It was her own reluctance to expose herself that kept her from seeking deeper relationships among the crew. This same reluctance was further fueled by the Doctor's well-meaning but ill-executed attempt in helping Seven to date.

The pair resumed their casual scrutiny of the crew, who still socialized in the Mess Hall. Some were animated in their conversations while others spoke quietly. Each woman lost herself in her own appraisal of the dynamics around her.

"Come on," Janeway said as she stood, gesturing for Seven to follow her. "Walk the ship with me. It'll help clear your head."

Without another word, Seven of Nine joined Captain Janeway on a tour of the ship.


	5. Chapter 05 Vista

**Running Up That Hill:  
**A Janeway / Seven Series

**Author: **ladydameon  
**Co-Author(s) / Beta:** Lain Stardust

**General Disclaimer(s):** See previous chapter(s).

**Chapter 5:** Vista  
**Rating:** PG-13 / T  
**Summary:** Captain Janeway leads an away team on a trade mission which becomes an epiphany for Seven of Nine.

**Author's Note:** Reading the previous chapter(s) is recommended. Paragraphs and lines in italics are either internal thoughts, the other end of a voice communication, or a brief synopsis of earlier events. The alien culture is loosely based on the stereotypical assumptions of how a wolf pack functions. Special thanks to K9-Mom (our personal animal behaviorist) for letting us pick her brain.

**Pronunciation Guide:  
**_Inuldea_ in-ool-DEE-aah: species  
_Inuldean_ in-ool-DEE-N: planet name_  
Deltra_ dell-trah: clan beta, clan trader_  
Keercha_ KEAR-chaah: clan trader's assistant  
_Tammoi_ TAM-moy: clan alpha  
_Verret_ ver-RET: Tammoi's mate  
_Zolai_ zoo-LAY: Deltra's mate  
_Talloi_ tal-LOY: Deltra and Zolai's daughter  
Cerria see-RYE-ah: clan machinist

* * *

"Excuse me. Pardon me." Neelix slipped through the busy crowds, attempting to view the various vendor displays, tables, stalls and shops on the congested Merchant promenade of the Kutain Order Sector Outpost, _Talnor_.

Finding this station had been a godsend for _Voyager_, and apparently a lot of other folks felt the same way given the sheer mass attempting to haggle and hustle goods. Despite the recent restocking at the Liratic Supply Depot over a month ago, the crew hadn't been able to construct a suitable replacement magnetic restrictor assembly as the device's ion diffusion chamber kept generating micro fractures throughout the outer casing, which eventually destabilized the entire contraption. The assembly had already failed twice this week.

Although Chakotay and Tuvok had reservations about stopping at the outpost, Captain Janeway negotiated docking rights with _Talnor_'s Station Master and ordered several away teams to locate possible suppliers.

Neelix completely understood the need for caution, especially after the recent pirate attacks on _Voyager_, but his keen eyes hadn't seen any danger or bad situations someone with common sense could avoid—at least not on the Merchant promenade. Glancing over his shoulder to see how his partner faired and that she was close behind, the Talaxian smirked and realized her wild-eyed look definitely reflected the way he felt.

"This is counterproductive," stated Seven of Nine in a disgusted tone. Even with her height advantage, she was having difficulty browsing the wares or locating anything _Voyager_ could use. The ex-drone clenched her jaw as people continued to bump into and brush against her. To top things off, the noise level was frustrating and difficult to filter out.

"I'm inclined to agree," muttered Neelix as he darted away from the boisterous traders, gesturing for Seven to follow him. "Let's have a bit of refreshment, or maybe brunch, until this morning rush thins out."

"Acceptable."

Smiling, Neelix pointed towards what seemed to be a restaurant. "How about there?"

He led them into a dimly lit establishment, reminiscent of one on the station near the Nekrit Expanse. The distance and darkness acted as a buffer to the people outside—a soothing balm to their frazzled nerves. Neelix certainly felt better just being inside.

Picking a high table towards the back, Neelix weaved his way through the mostly empty restaurant. Something on the floor caused him to stumble and trip over his own feet. In a frantic attempt to regain his balance, Neelix sidestepped a few times to his left, out of Seven of Nine's aiding reach.

The moment his heel stomped solidly onto the floor and he managed to finally right himself, Neelix was flung forward as that particular section of decking decided it didn't want to be under his boot anymore. He stumbled headlong into an empty table, causing it to rattle and screech as it skidded across the floor several inches.

A loud yelp echoed throughout the almost vacant restaurant.

Seven's inquiry to Neelix was halted as a tall, hooded figure rose from a nearby table—next to where Neelix had finally gained his balance. The two _Voyager_ crewmembers stood together, watching as the figure rose to an intimidating two-point-one meters tall and emanated a low, deep growl.

No other patrons made a move to flee or intervene.

The growling individual took a step towards Neelix and Seven. Short, thick claws glinted in the dim light while inspecting the disrespected tail Neelix had inadvertently stomped with his boot heel.

"My apologizes," stammered Neelix, taking a fateful step forward, but he immediately jumped back as a stunted snout filled with pointy teeth snatched and snarled at the air.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Captain Janeway pinched the bridge of her nose, warding off the growing tension behind her eyes. With a wave of her hand, she leaned back into her chair and commented, "Do we have any _good_ news?"

Chakotay glanced at Tuvok, shifting in his chair slightly. Things on _Voyager_ hadn't been easy lately. If the crew wasn't having problems, it was the ship, and if it wasn't the ship, then it was aliens—a never-ending cycle of conflict and strife.

"Eight of the away teams have checked in, Captain, and only one so far was successful in opening negotiations for trade," answered the commander. Checking his PADD, he added, "Ensign Kim has reported a merchant capable of delivering fifty percent of the requested raw materials within four days." The XO passed the device to the captain.

"Your assessment, Tuvok?" Janeway read the list, mentally calculating how far the raw minerals and ore could be stretched as she attempted to prioritize the various departments' needs.

"I suggest level eight security protocols be observed if you decide to extend shore leave to the crew while at _Talnor_," the Vulcan answered.

The captain glanced over the PADD, understanding what he was saying. Nodding to no one in particular, she handed the device back to Chakotay. "Alright, see if Harry wants to oversee the exchange and schedule the crew for leave while we wait."

Hearing the obvious dismissal, both men nodded, stood and exited the Ready Room.

Janeway lifted her feet onto the corner of her desk, crossing them at the ankles. _Fifty percent_, she mused. It wasn't quite good enough. Seventy-five percent was what _Voyager_ actually needed, that extra only acted as a buffer in their usually-dwindling reserves.

Absently, she took a sip of her coffee, rolling her head to glimpse the station through the viewport and sighing. The captain had absolutely no desire to mingle and explore that alien station, which wasn't her normal MO. She was starting to feel listless and fidgety while on duty. Several times in the last week, Janeway found herself prowling the ship at all hours of the night as she was unable to sleep but a few short hours at a stretch. Her stomach rumbled. Also, she was constantly hungry, or so it felt.

_Tuvok had suggested level eight security protocols._

Janeway wasn't sure how the crew would respond to a curfew, but it could be extended upon her, Chakotay's or Tuvok's authorization. Additionally, all non-_Voyager_ personnel were to be escorted by a crewmember at all times and restricted to public areas while aboard ship. Unfortunately, this also meant anytime the captain left the ship she would have a full security detail on her heels, and that was the last thing this captain wanted to endure. After all, she had just gotten rid of that damned cane.

The chime sounded.

Bidding them enter, Janeway stayed in position and smiled as Seven entered from the Bridge. "Seven," she greeted, reaching out for the PADD in the Borg's hand.

"Our preliminary trade assessment, Captain," Seven said, offering the device.

"I hope you and Neelix had better luck than the others." Janeway activated the device, reading the detailed list of items to be traded by both parties. "Are you serious?" she inquired, grinning up at the young woman.

"Quite."

Still smiling, Janeway scrolled down to the provided cultural data. "They're canids," she murmured quietly in surprise.

"Neelix and our trader liaison are with the Doctor at the moment and wish to speak with you at your earliest convenience to finalize the trade negotiations," Seven explained as the captain continued to scan the report.

It was almost too good to be true. Deltra, the Inuldean trader, could provide a new magnetic restrictor assembly to their precise specifications. The only catch was they required _Voyager_ to send an engineering representative to their machinist back on their home-world, which was roughly a day's journey from the station, along with whatever raw material was necessary for construction.

"This is all they want?" surprise laced Janeway's voice. She looked up at Seven.

Raising her implant slightly, Seven replied, "Yes, Captain."

Of course, the Borg didn't consider it a small feat as there were several plant species and fermenting processes associated with the final product. It had taken her two hours alone to determine if the necessary plants would be disastrous to the Inuldea ecosystem. Conferring with _Voyager_'s botanist had expedited the research and only confirmed what Seven herself had already deduced from an astrometric scan of the planet, but it was best to be meticulous as she had aptly predicted many of the captain's concerns.

"Well, it looks like you've covered all the bases." Janeway dropped her feet from her desk and stood. She still couldn't believe it. Flashing a lopsided grin, the captain said, "Who would have thought they'd just want pickles."

=/\= =/\= =/\=

"So, how did you manage to score this deal, Neelix?" asked Tom Paris as he leaned on his elbows at the Briefing Room table. "We tried for hours, but couldn't get close enough to talk to anyone."

"Yeah," interjected Kim. "I had to literally push my way to a mining representative."

Smiling, Neelix puffed out his chest slightly. "It was providence. What can I say?"

"That you stepped on the trader's tail," offered Seven, a faint smirk curling her lips.

Immediately, Neelix's chest full of pride deflated. "That too," he chuckled, noting the distinct twinkle in Seven's eyes.

"Alright," Janeway said, stalling the light chuckles from her officers. "Since the crew is being offered shore leave while _Voyager_'s docked at _Talnor_, I'm going to ask for volunteers to travel to Inuldea."

"I'll go, Captain," Neelix spoke up.

Janeway nodded. She had expected—and hoped—Neelix would continue to offer his assistance until the trade's completion. He was quite the frugal haggler while being an accomplished diplomat. If trouble ever arose, the captain could count on Neelix being able to talk himself out of it one way or another.

"If Lieutenant Torres approves, I would be willing to act as the engineering representative."

"Really?" Torres blurted, blinking at Seven of Nine. She had been hoping to enjoy a few days off with her new husband, Tom Paris, but never expected the Borg to willingly help her out. She thought it might take a bit of prodding and deal making.

"If the Captain is agreeable," Seven clarified, looking expectantly at the captain.

Torres cleared her throat, realizing her outburst might not be well received. With what she trusted was an innocent expression, the engineer looked at Janeway, hoping she saw the subtle signs of an amused smirk.

The captain was hard pressed to keep her expression in check. It would be the ideal solution as she preferred a senior engineer to assist the Inuldean machinist, and she really didn't want to send B'Elanna on an away mission while still relishing the honeymoon phase of her marriage to Paris. Although both could easily be sent, Janeway didn't want to subject anyone to that much marital bliss in close quarters. Of course, she also could tell that Seven of Nine had absolutely no desire to return to _Talnor_.

Even though the professional relationship between the half-Klingon and Borg had improved, the personal one still needed some work—from both sides. This situation could just help that along.

"Alright, anyone else?" Janeway asked.

"I would like to oversee the medicinal herb and pharmaceutical exchange, Captain."

The Doctor's involvement wasn't truly necessary as the samples had already been provided and thoroughly tested for both parties. However, the hologram hadn't been off ship since his transmission to the Alpha Quadrant in a valiant attempt to cure his creator, and he had been behaving lately. It would be a bit too much for Neelix to oversee the entire trade.

"Permission granted, Doctor," the captain nodded, satisfied with the away team's make-up. "Load up the necessary supplies on the _Delta Flyer_. I'll make departure arrangements with Deltra."

"Aye, Captain," the designated away team members chorused.

"I would be willing to lead the mission, Captain." Chakotay paused in entering data into his PADD, looking at Janeway. He had no intention of letting her go far without a full security escort.

"That won't be necessary, _Commander_," Janeway replied, stressing his rank.

"Gamma shift in Engineering would miss the Captain popping in for a few days." Torres smirked. Although she loved how the captain kept people on their toes, herself included, the lieutenant wished Janeway would rile up other departments once in a while on her sleepless nights.

"You didn't say that when the Gamma supervisor hailed you—Ow!" Paris winced as he leaned over slightly to rub his bruised shin.

Torres tossed her husband a dirty look, but her expression was completely neutral as she returned her gaze back to the captain as if nothing had happened.

Quickly smothering her smirk as she decided to ignore the entire exchange, Janeway adjourned the briefing. She wasn't surprised when Chakotay and Tuvok lingered behind.

"This unified front is quite unsettling," the captain commented, leaning back in her chair.

Years ago, the Captain of _Voyager_ hoped her former-Maquis First Officer and Vulcan Chief of Security could put their differences aside to develop a solid, dependable working relationship. She just didn't expect them to use it in some vain attempt to corral her.

"Humor aside, do you believe your participation in this away mission to be absolutely necessary?"

Chakotay was a little startled by Tuvok's directness with Janeway and equally surprised with how well the captain took it. Of course, when he took that approach, it usually led to disaster.

Quickly clearing his throat, the commander added, "I _would_ enjoy having the opportunity to study this culture, Captain." It was the honest truth.

"I appreciate your concern gentlemen, but the bottom line is I _need_ to get off this ship without risk of personal peril." Janeway stood, hoping it would signal her desire to end this discussion.

In the last few months, she's been shot, assimilated, and locked away in her quarters for weeks. She had enough coddling, and it was time for her to re-establish her independence to pre-convalescence levels, especially since she was once again able-bodied.

"Then, may I suggest a security team escort you," Tuvok offered. He had four officers already in mind.

"That won't be necessary, Tuvok." The captain continued before either man could object. "The crew is in desperate need of a break, as am I. Besides, Neelix can talk himself out of just about anything. Seven is perfectly capable of offering any physical protection, and if I do get hurt, I have the Doctor to treat me. A captain couldn't ask for a better away team." With that said, Janeway nodded to the men and left the Briefing Room.

Chakotay sighed as Tuvok raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe we're overreacting?" the First Officer asked.

"Perhaps, but Captain Janeway has the propensity to find trouble." Tuvok left for the Bridge. It was fruitless to speculate once his captain made up her mind.

Once alone, Chakotay sighed in resignation, resting his hands on hips as he glanced out the viewport.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

The away team going to Inuldea had about an hour before their scheduled departure. So far, everything had progressed without a hitch, and all the required supplies were secured on the _Delta Flyer_.

Captain Janeway walked into an empty Sickbay. She was about to walk out when….

"Captain." The EMH came through his office from the Med Lab. "What can I do for you?"

"It's nothing important," Janeway attempted to slink out of Sickbay, rethinking her motivations. "I can wait until some other time."

However, the hologram was a little faster than she anticipated. He gently hooked his arm through hers and ushered them to a bio bed. "It must be something if you _willingly_ came to Sickbay." The Doctor was slightly relieved and a tad concerned that Janeway just hopped onto the bio bed as he retrieved a medical tricorder. As he ran his scan, he inquired, "What seems to be the problem?"

"I'm starving."

A glib remark was on the tip of his holographic tongue, but the Doctor held it, looking curiously at his captain.

"I eat . . . constantly."

Not finding anything out of the ordinary in his initial scans, the EMH folded up his tricorder.

Seven of Nine had mentioned the captain had sustained a satisfactory nutritional regimen during her rehabilitation, and as far as she was aware, the captain also continued to maintain that routine—actually eating breakfast, lunch and dinner.

In an attempt to waylay her fears and perhaps continue consuming things other than coffee and vegetable bouillon, the Doctor said, "It's only natural for your body to crave additional nourishment. You've been through—"

"Three square meals and a platter of leola root crisps in a day can_not_ be normal," Janeway retorted.

Retrieving the medical tricorder, the Doctor disengaged the diagnostic wand again and rescanned. "You're still participating in the fitness regimen with Commander Tuvok?"

At his captain's nod, he was about to speak but instead changed a few settings in the tricorder. The EMH closed the device once more and motioned for Janeway to stand up. Quickly, he began a tactile examination: feeling her biceps, triceps, and the various muscles down her back.

Stopping at the thick padding under the uniform at the lower lumbar region, he asked, "This area is still sensitive?"

"Yes, but the padding has helped."

Ever since her de-assimilation, Janeway's lower back had been extremely sensitive to any tactile stimulation, once it got over the initial soreness. Luckily, the Doctor devised a buffer to protect against the friction of garments and any possible contact to the region. They both hoped the skin would gradually become less sensitive and the pad unnecessary.

"I'm not detecting anything out of the ordinary, Captain. Your metabolism has been significantly elevated, which was expected. As for your muscle mass, that could be from prolonged physical activity." The Doctor had a sneaking suspicion that the nanoprobes were also responsible for both alterations. Adding to the mystery, the tactile examination didn't correlate with the muscle density indicated by the tricorder.

It would take further research and observation to confirm, but the EMH believed that the Collective was experimenting with the captain by injecting her with a new type of nanoprobe. These 'new' nanoprobes didn't seem to require traditional regeneration as in Seven of Nine or the Borg children's cases, but rather, they used kinetic energy naturally produced by her own body. However, it remained to be seen how far the nanoprobes would go to 'stabilize' Janeway's physical condition.

"How have you been sleeping?"

With a sigh, the captain responded, "Not much, but I feel rested."

Nodding, the Doctor entered the additional information in a PADD. He had heard talk about Janeway stalking the ship at all hours, more so than usual. Some members of certain departments were starting to get unnerved by the frequent visits—namely Engineering—while others welcomed the captain's company. They took her presence as reassurance that everything was well.

"I've been feeling on edge," she finally admitted.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "I figured as much when you volunteered to lead the away mission."

It was only a matter of time before the captain would start to feel smothered. The EMH noticed the crew's tendency to take things easier when Janeway was under the weather or injured. However, what the crew considered easy usually created more drama.

"Well," he said, deactivating the PADD, "it's nothing a good stretch of the legs won't fix. However, I would suggest a healthier snack other than leola root crisps."

The resident Talaxian cook had finally concocted a fairly tasty treat with the never popular leola root. Of course, the EMH really couldn't know if the crew had finally acclimated to the foodstuff's bitter taste, or if the flashed-fried, sugar-coated thin strips were actually good.

The captain nodded, not showing the relief she felt. Part of her was afraid he would force her to take shore leave. "Thank you, Doctor."

"Certainly, Captain." The hologram watched his captain exit Sickbay and smiled.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

**[First Night on Inuldea Prime]**

Captain Janeway stepped down the aft ramp of the _Delta Flyer_, inhaling a sweet scent similar to alfalfa and clover on the gentle breeze. She squinted at the setting sun, quickly bringing a hand up to shield her eyes.

There wasn't a cloud in the evening sky.

In the distance, a silhouetted group of three Inuldeans approached through hip-height prairie grasses. Behind them lay a cluster of low mounds that was obviously the clan's settlement and beyond that, on the horizon, a jagged mountain range. Quickly, the captain scoped out the remaining scenery, seeing nothing but flat land and the gentle curve of the earth across the plain.

By this time, Deltra had joined _Voyager_'s away team after securing her small ship two landing pads away, which were nothing more than a circular clearing of loose gravel.

The fact that Inuldea had no orbital stations or docking ports was a bit of a surprise, but considering the species's reverence for nature and living in harmony with their environment, it wasn't really a revelation. For a split second, Janeway felt a tad guilty leading this away mission instead of Chakotay, but that was gone as soon as she stepped off the _Flyer_. She needed this.

Deltra's assistant sprinted off towards her silhouetted pack mates—approaching them via an arched path. Stopping briefly, she continued towards the village. Janeway paid close attention to how the trader's assistant greeted her pack mates: head lowered, ears lying almost flat, tail almost touching the ground. Obviously, that pack member didn't hold a high station in the order of things.

"Keercha will fetch others and hover carts to assist in moving the essential materials to the machinist's workshop," explained Deltra, her long tail wagging slightly as she showed a moderate amount of teeth—the canine equivalent of a smile. "Our Alpha looks forward to meeting you, Captain."

This was the first time the captain had the opportunity to interact with Deltra in person. Although Seven and Neelix's initial report included images, it didn't quite prepare her for the sheer size of the Inuldeans, as Deltra stood at least a half a meter taller than Janeway.

The best way to describe the species was as humanoid wolves, if one considered Deltra a typical Inuldean. Obviously, from the physical differences between Deltra and Keercha, height, mass and body structure varied as well as fur color. But for the most part, the species had short snouts adorned with sharp teeth, complete with the expected elongated canines. Their hands were broad with stubby fingers that had thick pads on fingertips and palms. Being bipedal digitigrades, the pads under their toes and metatarsal were thick as they wore no additional protective footwear. Deltra had a much thicker, fuller ruff than Keercha, perhaps signifying a difference in age.

As the alpha and escorts got closer, Janeway realized clothing wasn't an absolute necessity for the Inuldeans, given the short, dense fur that covered their entire body, but rather, clothing seemed to display position, much like the captain's pips on her tunic. Was clothing a custom cultivated from interacting with other space-faring species, or was it learned within their own society as they evolved? Deltra's outfit consisting of loose, cropped, dark brown pants cut off at the hock and short-sleeved, v-neck, navy tunic with a full-length, charcoal grey cloak must be off-world attire since the approaching clan mates wore next to nothing.

"Greetings, Tammoi." Deltra slightly lowered her head, ears and tail, diverting her eyes as she bowed to the clan alpha. "May I present Captain Janeway, Alpha of _Voyager_."

Janeway quickly offered a fair approximation of Deltra's posture. If the center individual was indeed the alpha, the wagging tail was a good sign.

Tammoi greeted Deltra with a short nod. The alpha was a good thirty centimeters taller than the trader with light gray/white coloring and brilliant amber eyes. "Welcome to Inuldea, Captain Janeway."

Slowly, the captain lifted her gaze to the pleased, relaxed face of Tammoi, and she was finally able to notice that all of the Inuldeans present were indeed female, if the small mounds under ornately decorated strips of fabric were any indication. Her scientific curiosity was immediately peaked, but would have to wait for a more appropriate time.

After making eye contact with her guest, Tammoi continued, "May I present my spouse, Verret."

Verret bowed and offered the proper greeting worthy of a clan alpha. She was about Seven of Nine's height with a much slimmer build than Tammoi and Deltra. Her fur reminded Janeway of honey, and her eyes of chocolate.

"And this is Zolai, mate of Deltra."

Zolai's bow and greeting was much more submissive, her fur the color of dust and sand, and her eyes pale amber.

Returning the greetings, Janeway introduced her crew. She was careful to notice Verret and Zolai seemed somewhat off put by Seven's stiff demeanor and erect, proper posture, perhaps thinking she was being aggressive. Their eyes continually shifted from Tammoi and herself, their pointed ears fully forward, searching for clues on how to behave or interpret the stance. However, Tammoi paid no heed to their alertness as she focused solely on Janeway, taking her cues directly from the visiting pack's leader.

Tammoi invited the away team to share their evening meal, and to be guests in her home during their visit. Again, Verret and Zolai seemed unsure, yet did nothing but follow the alpha's lead. Once Keercha returned with hover carts and assistants, the entire group made their way to the village.

Neelix slipped into an easy dialogue with Deltra as the captain and Tammoi continued to converse. The dual conversations seemed to ease some of the tension for Verret and Zolai as they attempted to focus on what was being said, each staying close to her respective mate.

The alphas walked slightly in the lead of the group: Tammoi on the right, Janeway on the left. Verret flanked her wife while following a few steps behind. She curiously observed Seven of Nine, who took a similar position with the captain. The desire to ask was hard to contain, but Verret contented herself by pondering why Seven wasn't introduced as a mate. Her head tilted as her ears were fully forward and her brows crinkled.

Glancing behind her, Verret saw that Neelix and Deltra were deep in conversation. Zolai, on her mate's flank, silently followed, occasionally looking at the alphas and the tense Seven of Nine. Keercha and the others pushed hover carts, seeming unsure about engaging the Doctor.

The simple earth-mound homesteads were very misleading. Upon entering Tammoi's home, which stood slightly separate from the village cluster, Janeway was overwhelmed with the sheer elegance and craftsmanship of the interior.

They entered through the main entrance—a tall, wide set of heavy, wooden double doors, very similar to the simple church doors of medieval Europe—into a large, circular great room. Later the away team would learn that the walls were constructed of sod—a mixture of grass and soil from the prairie—and sealed with a natural tan plaster, which components were plentiful in the foothills to the south. Janeway's gaze traced the massive beams that followed and reinforced the structure. Between each segment, the plaster was beautifully decorated with a mural, some story of the clan or an Inuldean's deed. The floors were a smooth, level sea of polished, natural stone, dotted with a variety of hand-woven rugs. In the center of the room, a massive oval, dark-stained, wooden table stood, its short pedestal an ancient tree trunk, surrounded by brightly colored floor pillows for seating.

Opposite the entrance, the captain spied a few discrete hallways, flanking a large, open kitchen and leading to what she assumed were more private areas. As Tammoi pointed out the more interesting features of her home, she led the _Voyager_ away team to their private quarters. During their brief tour, the crew learned the entire structure was composed of natural and recycled materials. The Inuldeans wasted nothing, not even the by-products of generations past.

Tammoi opened a solid, wood door at the end of a hallway to reveal another circular room, about a quarter of the size of the great room. It was obviously the guest quarters as four sleeping alcoves were shaped into the walls. A small round table with conventional stools stood in the center. Another door leading to an en suite was to the right of the entrance while a set of glass doors opened out onto a private shaded patio, providing a panoramic view of the prairie, the mountains and the lingering remnants of the setting sun.

Excusing herself, Tammoi left the away team to get settled and freshen up before the evening meal.

An hour later, Verret retrieved the away team, leading them back into the great room. Food was still being brought to the table as Janeway was gestured to sit at the alpha's left, whose traditional station was at the end of the oval and opposite the large entrance. The captain felt slightly dwarfed as the thick table top hit her mid chest if she kept her posture erect.

_Hope they don't mind elbows on the table_, she mused.

Across from Janeway and to Tammoi's immediate right, Verret assumed her typical position followed by Deltra, Zolai and a new Inuldean who appeared much younger and gangly.

Janeway observed Seven's nervousness and nodded at Neelix's subtle gesture indicating his desire to nestle the young woman between them. Much to her mirth, the others didn't fare much better in the height department.

Once everyone was settled, Tammoi said, "Please, eat and enjoy nature's offerings with us."

The newcomer had begun digging in with great fervor, eliciting a low growl and subtle snarl from Deltra. The young female stalled her assault on the platters as her ears folded back and out.

Tammoi saw the amusement in Janeway's eyes as her wife prepared her plate. "We do not usually stand on ceremony, Captain. This is Talloi's first meal with non-clan."

Janeway casually dismissed the incident which prompted the alpha to wag her tail and the young Talloi to visibly relax and resume filling her plate. However, the captain was amiss on how to prepare her own plate as she couldn't quite reach any of the delicious food without getting on her knees. It was then Seven of Nine took the captain's plate and began dishing appropriate amounts of the various foods. Thanking Seven, she caught the slight head tilt and forward ears of Verret.

"Will you not eat, Doctor?" Zolai asked gently.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. The Doctor is a hologram," Deltra explained excitedly around a mouth full of food.

This realization seemed to erode Zolai's uncertainty for curiosity, but Talloi beat her to the initial punch by asking, "Really? A clan to the south has been experimenting with holographic technology, but as far as anyone knows, they haven't developed anything more complicated than an environment."

Zolai inquired, "But you are your ship's surgeon as well?"

The conversation about holograms and holographic technology between the Doctor, Zolai and Talloi continued at their end of the table while the others went on with the meal.

"Deltra took the liberty of transmitting _Voyager_'s story to us, Captain." Tammoi was pleased the captain seemed to enjoy their food as she gestured to Seven for another piece of prairie fowl. "I must admit, I am humbled by an alpha who would extend protection to an alien clan while offering refuge to a pursued enemy. It is truly an inspirational tale—one I would most assuredly share. However, Deltra also indicated that you recently came through the Liratic systems. I am slightly surprised they were unable to aid you with supplies."

Quickly finishing her drink, Janeway went into explaining how _Voyager_ did have the good fortune to stop at Liratic Prime. After negotiating for supplies, their visit was cut short as the away team got caught in a skirmish with the Northern continent and central government.

Nodding, Tammoi explained, "Inuldea has had a favorable relationship with the Liratic since they started to explore space. However, in the last century there has been a growing discord in the population. Please do not misunderstand me. The Liratic are a kind, generous people, but an appalling faction has settled amidst the self-isolating people of the north."

The captain outlined how they were attacked and chased by a band of what the Liratic Intelligence called pirates, and it was during one of those encounters that the magnetic restrictor assembly was damaged beyond repair. _Voyager_ didn't have the capabilities to refurbish or construct a new one.

"The clan council should just commit resources to eliminating those pests," spat Verret, her posture becoming rigid and hard.

Janeway was surprised by the uncharacteristic outburst. It was also obvious that Tammoi didn't appreciate the commentary. Not wanting to get bogged down with political affairs, the captain attempted to diffuse the situation by asking for more information. "The raiders operate this far out from Liratic Prime?"

"They operate anywhere they can get a foot hold," explained the alpha. "They don't venture here because they cannot get past our solar system alert net nor our planetary defense grid. As for the expanse of their hunting grounds, I wouldn't be surprised if you haven't seen the last of them."

"It's impossible to predict their movements because the ships are always different," added Deltra, pulled from her private conversation with Neelix. "And even if you find the same ship, the crew will never be the same."

Seven refilled Janeway's empty mug, content to remain silent and take in this new information.

"I'm afraid we can't offer any additional information, Captain, for the chaotic nature of the pirates prevents any intelligence from remaining valid for long."

The rest of the evening continued with further generalized discussions about their cultures and traditions. Verret and Zolai eventually became comfortable among the _Voyager_ crew, and started to interact with them more directly, even with Seven and the Doctor. Janeway knew everything would be alright when she saw the relaxed expression of Talloi, complete with tongue hanging out.

Dinner was winding down when the captain felt something touch her leg. Glancing under the table, Janeway smiled at two large, bright blue eyes gazing up at her with a longing expression. Slowly, she moved her hand down, allowing the pup to smell her hand. The question of whether it was a pet or offspring was answered when she saw the diaper the pup was wearing. The blue-eyed pup graciously accepted a gentle pet on the top of her furry head. However by this time, Tammoi twisted to see what had captivated her guest's interest under the table. The alpha released a low growl, a deep rumble in her chest causing the pup to skitter further into the protection of Janeway's lap.

"Hello," Janeway cooed unconsciously in a low, soothing tone. She absently petted the pup. Looking up, the captain saw the tension in Verret, suddenly becoming stiff, ears flat and back against the head. "Is she yours?" the captain inquired softly.

The pup fumbled to stand on her hind legs, front paws pulling their way up the uniform jacket. Janeway could feel the tiny fingers flexing, claws poking through fabric.

Everyone was intent on watching the interaction.

"She is our first," answered Verret, visibly relaxing when Janeway laughed as the pup licked under her chin.

"Sasha," Tammoi scolded as she reached for the pup, who whimpered. She paused in her retrieval as the captain stroked Sasha, calming the youngster. "She likes you."

It was truly a feat as the one-year-old pup hadn't taken to anyone other than Verret and Tammoi. Absently, Sasha started to mouth on the captain's hand, earning a sigh from Tammoi. Suddenly, the pup released a rather demanding 'yip,' looking up at Janeway and garnering another smile. Verret quickly rose, moving to take the pup from the captain's lap. Sasha continued to yip and started howling as Verret disappeared with the pup down a hall.

"I apologize, Captain." Tammoi started.

"It's quite alright. You have a very adorable daughter." Janeway offered.

The alpha's tail wagged as the pride was evident in her eyes.

"And a demanding one at that!" Deltra's laughter was akin to low rumbling chuckles—a cross between a laugh and a rolling bark. "Who else would order a guest to change her diaper?"

=/\= =/\= =/\=

After the conclusion of the evening meal, Tammoi requested Janeway join her on a stroll out into the grasslands. Naturally, the captain agreed, despite the one word protest from Seven of Nine. The air was pleasantly cool amidst a clear sky and a calm sea of tall grasses. They moved slowly away from the village, past the landing pads, and after a few moments of quiet contemplation, the alpha spoke softly so as to not disturb the coming night.

"I'm troubled for you, Captain."

Janeway looked over her shoulder at Tammoi, taken away from her assessment of remote lights, far to the south.

"The raiders that plight this sector will continue to hunt _Voyager_ until they achieve their objective—whatever that may be and for however long it may take.…" Pulling her eyes from the stars overhead, the alpha locked gazes with Janeway, attempting to nail her point home. "I didn't believe it appropriate to speak of such things in front of the others."

One of the two full moons shone brightly over head while its sister just crested the horizon, illuminating everything with a cool blue-white tint.

"What can you tell me?"

There were just some things leaders couldn't discuss among subordinates.

"They're tenacious in their pursuit of property and materials—valuable or not. If they were but a band of thugs and thieves, I wouldn't waste your time, but they are dangerous beyond conventional means, more so because they have a leader." Tammoi paused, shifting her gaze onto the vast plains. "Only the ruthless and the bold survive and prosper. They spider out, seeking the isolated and malcontents of society and bring them into their fold, using them."

"For what purpose?" Janeway asked, never taking her eyes from the alpha.

The captain and crew of _Voyager_ have seen their fair share of bullies and hostiles. They'd always managed to outrun them before.

"A nefarious reason—I have no doubt—but by evading them, stalling their efforts will only attract the more astute hunters as your ship and yourself will become vaunted prizes among them—symbols of power and prestige."

Janeway felt the tension settling in on her shoulders and neck. She took a slow breath as she considered the insinuation of what Tammoi just told her. _Voyager_ was going to be hunted. However, it couldn't be any worse than being chased by Hirogen. Without realizing it, the captain frowned as she looked up into the moon lit sky, the brightest stars twinkling.

Tammoi continued, "You cannot hope to fight them without help, and you will find no help from the Liratic, the Kutain Order, the Inuldeans or, sadly, from anyone within a thousand light-years. These rogues have made a gaping wound upon this region of space. And while everyone believes they are safe, they pay no heed to the signs of weakness and infiltration."

Stopping, the alpha sighed, "I don't wish to lay our problems at your feet, Captain, but I would be negligent if I didn't warn you of your fate."

Something snapped in Janeway, that same something that dared to spit in the face of death and steal a kiss from lady luck. With just a little bit further to go, the only thing those pirates were going to see was _Voyager_'s warp trail. Once upon a time, Captain Janeway didn't believe in Fate, didn't believe her life had a predestined map, but her experiences over the last six years had broadened her perspective. The Universe was full of signs, but it was the free will of the individual that chose whether or not to act upon them.

Slowly, the captain's frown morphed into an impish, crooked grin. She peered at Tammoi out of the corner of her eye. Once she made eye contact, Janeway said, "They'll have to catch us first."

Tammoi released a hearty laugh that rumbled deep in her chest. "A difficult task, I'm sure, Captain."

The joy and night air lightened the mood, lifting the stress and tension from the pair of alphas.

After a few moments, Tammoi said, "We should return home, but first, bay with me."

Janeway watched as the alpha stood her full height, taking a fortifying breath. Tammoi stretched further still, craning her neck out and up as she swung her head skyward. She released a beautiful call. Curious, the captain tilted her head, asking a silent question.

Realizing her guest had not joined in; Tammoi looked once again at Janeway, tongue hanging out slightly to one side. "We howl for our lost, to let them know they haven't been forgotten and that we will always welcome them into our homes and hearts."

This brought a smile to the stalwart captain's face, and as Tammoi prepared to howl once more, she added her own cry for her lost but not forgotten crew. As their voices began to fade out, another voice joined them, then another and another still, until the night air was filled with the combined howls of the clan. When the echoes died away, a faint return chorus came from the direction of the far lights to the south.

The calls gradually ceased, and Janeway stirred from her contemplation of the stars and of family and friends back home, a lone tear slipping down her cheek.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

**[The Following Evening…]**

With a smile on his face, Neelix carried a basket of foodstuffs for his crewmates, packed with samplings of Inuldean breads, cheeses and dried fruits, the culmination of his efforts with the clan's botanist and favorite chef. He was really quite pleased, and hoped the captain would be as well—perhaps giving him permission to procure some of their spices.

Slipping into their room, Neelix nodded his greeting to the Doctor and Janeway who were in the middle of a rather subdued conversation at the center table.

"It's really quite fascinating how they maintained a pack mentality while developing an outwardly typical humanoid culture," the Doctor commented, peering into the basket Neelix deposited on the table.

"From what I've learned," Janeway picked out a bite-sized piece of dried fruit, surprised at the sweet-tart flavor, "they really didn't start making headway as a global society until the male population decreased."

"Fascinating, do they appear analogous to dogs on Earth?"

By this time, Neelix had finished setting out the variety of cheeses, moving on to the small, pre-sliced loaves of bread.

"Fairly comparable, actually. I've noticed a striking resemblance in their non-verbal communication—even observed several speechless conversations throughout the settlement." Janeway thanked Neelix for the snack. She had literally eaten all day on her tour of the village with Tammoi.

Through the course of the evening, between the two of them, only a small portion of each was left by the time Seven returned from the machinist's workshop.

The trio continued to discuss the Inuldean culture and history. While there were obviously other genus members on the planet, this particular species evolved from a small, isolated population of canid-like ancestors, and was the only one to develop as fully humanoid. Gradually, as the culture grew and as a society developed—reaching a point very similar to that of Ancient Rome on Earth—the male populace of the species began to decrease in number. This all happened approximately four thousand years earlier.

From that time onward, the drive for territory disappeared, taking with it the conflict-driven violence between clans and the predominately male hierarchy. It was the pack mentality that led the mating pairs of clans to share their offspring, giving them to the same-sex pairs within the clan to nurture as their own.

"I don't understand how the biological parents could simply . . . give up their children," stated the Doctor as Neelix excused himself to freshen up before bed.

"It takes a village to raise a child," Janeway commented a bit enigmatically.

_She had discussed the concept with the clan historian during the lazy, hot afternoon hours in the cool darkness of a massive underground library filled with thousands of handcrafted tomes. Of course, the entire library was also stored on the clan's central computer core which was connected to the global network_—_very similar to the United Federation of Planets' civilian network. _

_During her extensive tour of the village, Tammoi revealed to Janeway the extent of the advanced, camouflaged technology. It was a true example of how machinery could embrace nature in both function and form. The captain tactfully inquired about how Inuldea kept the pirates from invading their system. Without exposing any great secrets, the alpha explained via a command console (located in the bowels of the library) how the alert and defense systems worked, and explained how most spacefarers simply passed their system because initial scans only indicated a primitive culture. If it wasn't for the close proximity of the Kutain Order's outpost, Talnor, the planet would remain totally isolated. The power-dampening shields ensured that even the Borg bypassed them, being that the last Borg encounter was just over a century ago._

After a pause, the captain added, "I doubt it's not so much as giving up a child as enabling other couples to be parents."

The sense of community among these people was quite inspiring. With the outward appearance of a slow-moving agrarian civilization, the Inuldeans were deceptively well-informed and connected to the other villages dotting the planet.

"They really do take considerable care to ensure proper relationships."

Janeway nodded, understanding the implications of the hologram's comment.

In a culture of mostly females and with each clan having only one or two mating pairs, the prospect of certain taboos (that usually spanned into all humanoid customs) was well within the realm of reality. However, the clan historian took great lengths to explain rules of courtship for their young people. She outlined how most young people are apprenticed to other clans that specialize in certain skills or trades. It was during these years of training they sometimes took mates, eventually returning to their home clans.

A lull in conversation settled between the Doctor and Janeway. The captain's eyes looked out into the night of the open patio doors.

Tammoi's first life mate had died in an avalanche while traveling to a distant northern clan, escorting several pups. It wasn't until after the alpha's second pup had left on her apprenticeship that the clan elders urged Tammoi to take another mate—a rare circumstance, indeed.

Allowing her thoughts to drift, Janeway couldn't help but identify with the alpha's situation as she had essentially lost her own mate through time and distance, just another form of death. Despite the growing loneliness, the captain didn't pursue or seek any deeper companionship from her crew. There was Michael Sullivan, but that hadn't been anything close to what the rumors implied.

So mesmerized by the gentle sounds of the night, Janeway never registered that Seven of Nine had finally returned, joining the three around the table. Neelix had apparently slipped back earlier, having finished his bath and his ear was firmly caught by the EMH. Seven sampled the remaining cheese, bread and dried fruit after much insisting by the Talaxian. She was finally brought into the conversation with.…

"You didn't bring anything to sleep in?" The Doctor sounded completely scandalized. He was certain they covered the lessons regarding 'Dressing for Success' and 'Are You a Spring or an Autumn?'

"My bio suit will be quite adequate, as it has been on previous away missions." Seven simply raised her implanted brow at the hologram, not really understanding the necessity of changing garments. After all, she didn't change clothes last night, but of course, Seven had slipped away to the familiar comforts of the shuttle to utilize the portable regeneration unit (PRU).

"You didn't get dirty working?" Neelix asked, eyes dropping down to a grey smear across Seven's outer, left bicep.

Naturally, Seven twisted her arm to inspect the offending dirt. Sure enough, there it was, clear as could be across her left arm. She resisted the urge to sigh. In her usual fashion, she explained the situation to be inconsequential as she could recycle the garment upon returning to the _Delta Flyer_.

"But not tonight," said Janeway, who now stood with a set of folded clothes next to a sitting Seven of Nine.

The Borg spied that the captain's duffle had been opened and the contents riffled through in a search. Silently, Seven accepted the sleepwear, knowing her ploy to return to the shuttle wouldn't be successful . . . tonight. She was uncertain she would be able to sleep, and preferred the familiar surroundings of the _Flyer_.

"It wouldn't do you any harm to try and sleep tonight, Seven," the Doctor said cheerfully. "I'm certain you haven't overworked enough to warrant regeneration so soon, especially since you regenerated last night."

Without saying a word, Seven of Nine stood, retreating to the solace of the Inuldean en suite.

It was really quite remarkable. Like the rest of the home, the room was spacious and functionally equipped, stylishly decorated with natural stone and intricately carved wood. The en suite's sonic shower (with an optional hydro setting) and oversized bath were both lined with reddish tiles that were obviously handmade (so they were told) from the clay of the foothills.

A large skylight over the tub displayed another cloudless night.

Glancing at her reflection, Seven inspected her garment. In the course of assisting the Master Machinist and her gaggle of journeymen and apprentices, she had indeed soiled her bio suit. There was another one packed in her mission duffle, as was standard away mission procedure, but Seven really didn't wish to rest in her assigned sleep alcove. She found the idea of that much earth and weight suspended over her while she slept slightly unnerving.

Striping and making quick work of her grooming, she slipped into the provided sleepwear, privately pleased by the color and texture of the fabric. The blonde idly fingered the soft, smooth fabric. A small smile ghosted her lips as she considered her affinity for the garment, and how it strangely resembled the same material of one of Janeway's two dresses—a powder blue that intensified the captain's eyes.

_Did Kathryn remember?_ she mused, inspecting the two-piece pajama set in a large mirror over a carved stone basin. Loose and comfortable were the long sleeves and pants in a pastel mauve with light, grey pin stripes. Her chest had a strange fluttering feeling, but as soon as Seven focused on the sensation, it was gone.

Slowly, she lifted her arms, pulling the pins out of her hair. It was then she caught the familiar scent of sandalwood with just a touch of lavender—the unique scent of Janeway. The smell had been transferred from the garment being packed in the captain's duffle. Again, her heart fluttered. Not really focusing, Seven ran her hands through her hair, helping it to settle and relax.

Eventually, she quietly returned to the main room.

"Now, don't you feel better?" inquired Neelix with a smile on his face. He turned back to adjusting the blankets on his bed. "I really don't know how you can wear those bio suits—the fabric is so scratchy."

That seemingly offhand comment from the Talaxian sparked the Doctor into another bout of heavy (if not one-sided) conversation regarding fashion. It was also this moment the captain took her leave to prepare for bed. Twenty minutes later, she returned to find both men still talking, making commentary about each other and the crew's lack of fashion sense.

Hair damp and bare footed, Janeway sat next to Seven at the table, donned in her short-sleeved, periwinkle night clothes with the mandarin collar and three-quarter length pants. They both listened as Neelix and the Doctor continued.

"Have they been at this the whole time?" Chin in hand, Janeway leaned her elbow on the table, cutting a glance from the two men to the ex-drone.

"Yes." Irritation laced the Borg's simple answer. There was a pause before the younger woman said with an infrequently used warm, soft voice, "Thank you, Kathryn."

The captain smiled, lighting up her eyes. "How did your day with the machinist go?" she asked, watching the blonde's glance dart back and forth—from her eyes, to the table and back.

Subconsciously, Seven sat up a bit straighter, watching the Doctor speak animatedly. "We made significant progress, having completed construction of the ion diffusion chamber, and I estimate the entire assembly shall be finished tomorrow evening. Cerria and her apprentices are quite efficient." She paused to look directly at Janeway, pleased at having the captain's undivided attention. "You should visit their workshop, Kathryn. I believe you would find it rather remarkable."

Hearing Seven call the captain by her first name (for the second time), Neelix subtly shifted his gaze to the two women.

The Doctor never noticed.

"It was our intention during the tour." Janeway smiled, running her hand through quickly drying hair. It was light and free, wisps dancing in the gentle breeze blowing in from the still opened patio doors. "But, I got distracted by a horde of children."

_This particular Inuldean village had two mating pairs. Every other year, the couples would alternate, giving birth to an average of four pups. During the Sollestum_—_their equivalent of a siesta_—_the Doctor had explained that the number of pups was steadily decreasing, and that the physicians theorized the dominate markers of the Y-chromosome were responsible._

"Indeed." Seven had observed Janeway mingling with the toddlers and pre-adolescent youths. Many of them seemed to have taken an instant liking to the captain, and she to them. "They have a refining process that surpasses Federation procedures, and I believe it could be replicated on _Voyager_."

"Oh?"

"Lt. Torres estimated the magnetic restrictor assembly would require 80 kilograms of unrefined ore. However, using their refining process, the project will only use 40 kilograms. I have taken the liberty of requesting the remaining ore be refined. They were happy to do so as it provided a learning opportunity for the apprentices."

Now, the captain grinned openly at the younger woman. In her elation, she totally missed the display of Seven dipping her head and glancing away briefly only to return with a hesitant, tiny smile.

If they could manage to trade for the refining process and if it could be utilized onboard ship, it would double the reserve capacity and free up precious cargo space.

Refocusing on Seven, Janeway said, "I'll be sure to speak with Tammoi about it tomorrow."

_The captain already had a similar conversation with the alpha about Federation replicators as Deltra had expressed an interest in the technology from her time on Voyager. Of course, during the initial discussion, there was the usual disclosure about the barter of technologies (from both sides), but Tammoi wasn't interested in an actual working replicator, only interested in the research associated with how the replicator operated. Tammoi went on to explain that Inuldea maintained very strict regulations on any energy-based systems, and although Federation standards were very close, the functionality of the replicator would have to be completely redesigned. Janeway vaguely remembered Deltra alluding to such a state of affairs, even commenting that such a device would never be cleared for use on planet_—_reserved for stellar travel only._

Neelix had seen the entire exchange, quickly filing it away for further thought, and was once again drawn into a conversation with the EMH—about night clothes.

"Now wait a minute," stammered the Talaxian, looking down at his slanted checker-pattern nightwear of navy and grey Norcadian satin. "These are perfectly good pajamas."

"Please, it's a miracle you don't lay down at an incline."

The pair continued their fashion tête-à-tête, which naturally returned to the crew's tastes.

Long after everyone had settled for the night, Janeway slipped out of bed to peek out at the moonlit prairie.

The first moon was starting to slip below the horizon while the second hung high in the clear sky, blocking the stars, and the air was cool and crisp as the heat of the day had long left the soil.

Closing the doors, but leaving the curtains drawn, the captain turned to crawl back into bed but paused at seeing Seven of Nine curled tightly in a fetal position under her blanket, shivering. She retrieved the blanket from the Doctor's alcove, and carefully covered the ex-drone. Gently, Janeway tucked the blanket around Seven's shoulders. As she pulled away to finally return to her still warm bed, her fingers slipped through soft, corn silk fine hair, made platinum in the Inuldean moonlight.

Hearing the quiet rustle of a blanket, Seven opened her eyes to see Janeway settling on her side, her back facing out as one foot hung out from under the covers. It didn't take long for the older woman's breathing to slow. A sense of contentment washed over Seven as her body warmed and relaxed under the additional weight and warmth of the second blanket.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

**[During the Sollestum…]**

"Not sleepy?" Neelix asked Seven of Nine as he cooled himself with a grass-woven hand fan, enjoying the view from their private patio.

The air was still as the temperature had risen a good fifteen degrees since yesterday, but the shaded flat stone of the private patio continued to reflect coolness well into the heat of the high, mid-afternoon sun.

"Not currently." Seven replied, finally sitting down next to Neelix. She had stood sentry for the last ten minutes, just watching the prairie in her attempt to understand the captain's fascination with the landscape. But Seven found herself distracted and was instead focused on listening to the captain's light snores from a sleep alcove—not the quiet company of Neelix, who only became aware of her presence one point three minutes ago.

"Are you?" The stressful rigors of 'small talk' never seemed as taxing with the usually contented Talaxian.

"A little, but I wanted to enjoy the scenery and fresh air." He was pleased to have volunteered for this mission. It was almost a shame the entire crew couldn't experience this place—almost. Sipping on his cold, fruity refreshment, Neelix gazed out into the endless sea of quivering grass.

Large, fluffy white clouds slowly drifted across a brilliantly blue sky.

"May I ask you a question, Neelix?"

Blinking a few times in surprise, he replied, "Of course, Seven."

There was no telling what the Borg would ask him. It could literally be anything. However, the Talaxian believed he could reliably handle anything given the odd barrage of questions the crew subjected him to at alarming frequency.

"Is the practice of homosexual pairings common?"

Thinking for a moment, not really astonished but perhaps a tad disappointed over the rather mundane question, Neelix answered, "I would guess so depending on the society. Why do you ask?"

"I have been observing this culture…," Seven paused in her answer, as if that would explain everything. She assumed Neelix would have noticed the same-sex couples, the obviously limited number of males. How could anyone not? It was a fundamental distinctiveness of the species. However, the young woman hadn't been privy to the conversation between the trio yesterday, either. "Do humans engage in such pairings?"

"Well, _Voyager_ does have a few homosexual and bi-sexual crewmembers. I even think there's an established couple in the lower decks."

Now, there was a tiny voice in Neelix's head that questioned why Seven of Nine was asking him, of all people, these questions.

"I have never noticed that particular arrangement. Is it a new development?"

Brows furrowed as Neelix attempted to remember, vaguely recalling a series of anniversaries he helped plan, and even orchestrated, for the crew. "No, they've been together since shortly after _Voyager_ was stranded. Almost five years if I had to guess." He paused, turning to view Seven fully. "I thought the Borg would be familiar with homosexuality."

His little voice piped up again, a little bit louder this time. _Certainly she's done research on all aspects of human sexuality? She did observe Tom and B'Elanna for several weeks…._

Feeling inadequate due to her lack of information, Seven replied, "Such information would be considered irrelevant for a drone's function within the Collective."

"Ah." Neelix paused briefly before he continued. "So, I guess the Borg never put much stock in reproduction since they can just assimilate."

"Correct." Seven glanced back in the room as the captain's snores stopped, but she returned her focus to Neelix as they resumed. "Pursuing a same-sex paring would be an acceptable behavior onboard _Voyager_?"

"Oh, I would think so. A majority of the crew is quite accepting—only a few get a little uneasy over the matter. I know for a fact the senior staff has absolutely no problems with it. Aside from Commander Chakotay, he had a bit of a misunderstanding with the lower deck couple a few months ago."

Seven frowned, slightly. "I have not heard about that incident."

Clearing his throat, Neelix offered, "Well, nobody really likes to talk about it, and it might have occurred while you were off ship . . . possibly." Suddenly, he stopped fanning himself. "You really had no idea?"

Everybody had heard about the 'misunderstanding' between Commander Chakotay and _Voyager_'s token gay couple, or so Neelix thought.

Tension was settling in Seven's neck and shoulders as she answered, "No, the Doctor did not mention that as an option during his dating tutorials."

"No, no, I meant about the incident." Neelix waved his fan in the Borg's general direction to emphasize his point. Of course, he was promptly countered with a quite intimidating glare. Releasing a non-committal sound, Neelix turned away, busying himself with retrieving his beverage. After a satisfying sip as a suitable diversionary tactic, he said, "Shame, I'm sure quite a few ladies would love the chance to date you, Seven."

"Perhaps."

That was where their conversation ended. Eventually, Neelix drifted off to sleep, content to keep his musings to himself while Seven of Nine continued to stare out into the open plain.

Questions formulated as the young woman took stock of her newly gained perspectives, her thoughts analyzing past experiences. She couldn't help but still feel disappointed in the Doctor's long ago lessons on dating, where her initial frustrations revolved around his blatant disregard for her feelings—hidden but always present. Seven had taken the hologram's interest in her development at face value, never believing he would use her societal naivety for personal gain. The fact that it wasn't the EMH's original objective was irrelevant. He should have never allowed himself to be drawn into such a dilemma, especially at a friend's expense.

So, Seven of Nine thought.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

**[The Last Day on Inuldea]**

"That has to be one of the cutest things I've ever seen." The Captain of _Voyager_ smiled, intently watching the game with a gleeful glint in her eyes.

A whistle sounded, signaling the end of a play.

Notwithstanding the cute aspect, Seven of Nine raised her implanted brow at the scene before her, having to admit that there was a certain degree of physical prowess necessary for such an active and tactile sport.

Quickly, the group of adult Inuldeans formed two separate lines, one facing the other. Each line's formation varied as the participants shifted on their feet, tails wagging as they waited for the whistle to blow—signaling for action.

Neelix shared a look with Seven, not understanding Janeway's delight over the canids giving chase to each other all in the hopes of gaining possession of a small, round ball. To him, it looked downright painful as they slammed into each other, pawing and barking—some even tangling down onto the ground in a mass of furry limbs. However, this was one of their favorite sports, designed to promote teamwork and solidarity among the clan while enabling healthy competitions between clans.

Suddenly, the mass of spectators leapt to their feet in a barking cheer after what must have been a particularly exciting moment. The away team craned to peer around and above heads and ears as one of the visiting players ran the ball down the field. The interception did not go unpunished as one of Tammoi's clan tackled the runaway player, causing the ball to tumble free onto the ground. This naturally led to a dog pile over the wayward ball.

The impromptu game continued for over an hour, ending right before the midday meal and sollestum, giving the two senior members of the visiting clan ample opportunity to speak with _Voyager_'s away team. Their pleading invites to travel home with them were deftly parried, at least as far as Seven of Nine was concerned. Captain Janeway was already somewhat perturbed about being behind schedule thanks to the day's festivities, but she couldn't refuse the bounding adolescents that proclaimed she would love the sport.

And she did, immensely.

As the last of the cargo was finally loaded onto the shuttle, Janeway took one last look around the prairie. She was going to miss this place and forever be thankful for this particular away mission. It was exactly what the captain needed to soothe her anxieties and nerves, to allow her to once again find her center.

In the distance, Neelix and Deltra were sharing trader secrets.

The Doctor and Zolai had just completed their goodbye, finally heading separate directions.

With mild curiosity, Janeway observed as Verret meandered towards Seven, who was securing the exterior cargo door of the _Flyer_'s hold. However, a sharp yip pulled the captain's attention downward.

"Hello," Janeway said, bending over to pick up a toddler-pup. "Are you supposed to be out here?"

Sasha only responded by nuzzling and licking the underside of the captain's chin, earning a low chuckle. Her tail wagged fiercely, causing her small body to shake within Janeway's grasp.

"I would love to take you with me." Janeway absently stroked the soft, short fur. Not for the first time since arriving, she missed Molly back on Earth. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Talloi indirectly approaching her flank, out of sight of Tammoi and Verret. "However, I don't think your mothers would appreciate it very much."

Talloi panted with ears back as she came up to the captain. "Oh, thank you for finding her, Captain." The adolescent reached for the content pup, only to snatch her fingers away from Sasha's snapping teeth. Her tail dropped as she saw Tammoi walking towards them.

"Actually, I think Sasha found me." Offering an affectionate but speedy farewell, Janeway handed Sasha over to Talloi, sending them off before the alpha reached them.

The hard flash in Tammoi's gaze did not go unnoticed by anyone, but decorum luckily spared Talloi, for the moment. The alpha sighed as she stopped to stand next to Janeway, watching the children return home. It was a tossup—be disappointed in Talloi or impressed by Sasha.

The captain merely offered a small smile. Her eyes were slowly drawn back to Verret and Seven of Nine talking by the shuttle.

Hesitantly, Verret had joined Seven of Nine at the _Delta Flyer_'s aft ramp. Seeing Tammoi approach Captain Janeway in the distance, she started wagging her tail. "Your alpha has the markings of an excellent leader," pausing, she looked over at the ex-drone and added, "and mate." Tilting her head slightly as her ears went forward, Verret tentatively asked, "Is she mated?"

"No." There were the natural rumors of affairs and scandalous trysts devised on the lower decks, but that was all they were, at least as far as Seven of Nine could ascertain. "What marks an alpha as an excellent mate?"

Verret's ears slowly rotated and twitched, her head tilting the other direction as she weighed Seven's question. "In general, an alpha is selfless in her desire to provide for and protect her clan. Only after all other's needs are met, does she take for herself—a trait which usually transfers to her friendships and romantic involvements."

"Such notions contradict the allowances of preferential treatment a clan affords an alpha."

"Very true, but those allowances are more a show of respect, loyalty and even the trust a clan has in the alpha's capabilities as her position is governed through her merit and skill—not solely by prestige or privilege. No alpha can maintain a healthy clan by ruling with force and fear, at least, not for very long," Verret explained. "From what I have learned of your clan, it operates under the same basic principles."

"_Voyager_ maintains and operates in a military command structure established by Starfleet protocols."

Already knowing this, Verret nodded, but sought further explanation. "You're not a part of that structure?"

The answer to that very question was continually evolving for Seven of Nine. She took her position as fact and her duties as circumstance of that position. Yet, she had never once sought clarification to whether or not she had the credentials to function as a senior officer of a Starfleet vessel. Captain Janeway had simply placed her into the Astrometrics Officer position.

"No, I function as a civilian contractor within the hierarchy."

There had actually been some gossip over the whole affair. Several science crewmen were excited—especially those four comprising Stellar Cartography—over the addition of a senior officer position. Given _Voyager_'s ship classification, the vessel had no practical application for a full-time senior science officer when only preliminary scans and investigations would be conducted. Those reports would then be transmitted to Starfleet's Science Division Head who would decide if further research and exploration was warranted by a better equipped ship and crew.

"I see," Verret bowed her head, noticing the stray bits of grass peaking through the loose gravel of the landing pads. When she raised her head, she smiled and opened her mouth to speak….

But before anything could be said, the Doctor trotted up the access ramp with a cheerful nod to Verret. It was obvious from his humming and tinkering at an aft control panel that he wasn't going to leave anytime soon.

Losing her nerve, Verret offered Seven a last goodbye which was graciously received. She quickly returned to the side of Tammoi.

Seven searched the horizon as Neelix made his way into the _Delta Flyer_. Her eyes followed Deltra as she joined Tammoi, Verret and Janeway. Even with her enhanced hearing, she couldn't quite make out what was being said. After a few moments of watching, Seven turned and entered the shuttle to begin the pre-launch sequence. The captain would want to return to _Voyager_ as soon as possible.

Janeway shifted as the hairs stood up on the back of her neck. Out of the corner of her eye, Janeway saw Seven of Nine watching her while Deltra and Verret gave their final farewells. A distinctive, high-pitched whine signaled the _Flyer_'s pre-launch sequence. Janeway turned, but was stopped by a hand on her arm.

"You will always be welcome on Inuldea, Captain." The alpha's words were sincere, but her gaze hinted at fear. Sensing herself too open, Tammoi schooled her features and released the captain.

Janeway merely nodded before trotting the short distance to the shuttle. With one boot on the access ramp and the other still on the earth, she stopped and turned, watching Tammoi, Verret and Deltra clustered together. Her eyes squinted, attempting to discern any hints of a conversation, but in the dimming light, the captain couldn't even tell if they were speaking. Finally, she turned away, closing the ramp as she headed towards the cockpit.

As the _Delta Flyer_ gracefully rose, Deltra spoke, "We should have told her."

Verret replied, "We had no choice." Maybe if she said the words aloud, she would believe them.

Sighing, Deltra couldn't bring herself to be angry. "There's always a choice."

Tammoi agreed with the sentiment, but she had faith in Captain Janeway's abilities. "Even if we had told the Captain, it wouldn't have made a difference." The council had made its decision.

By now, the _Delta Flyer_ was long out of sight, on its way out of the solar system.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

**[Meanwhile, onboard Voyager…]**

"I am _not_ going to miss this place," stated Lt. Tom Paris as he entered a series of intricate commands to ease _Voyager_ away from one of _Talnor_'s docking gangways. Of itself, the task was simple. It was the ship traffic and erratic congestion zipping around the station that made Paris bite his lip.

The helmsman glanced upwards, eyes wide and slightly startled as an audible hiss and scrape traveled across the primary hull—over his head. He really didn't want to contemplate exactly how much pressure was necessary to force _Voyager_'s plating to shift and buckle in such vocal duress.

A slightly disgruntled smirk crossed Chakotay's face as he resisted the urge to shake his head. He certainly didn't want the job of guiding _Voyager _out into open space since he already had his own share of traffic.

The last few days had been far from uneventful with the steady flow of cultural differences reports continually (and perhaps spontaneously) appearing on his desk. Although a welcomed change of pace, it wasn't something the commander wanted on a permanent basis. Thankfully, things had been quiet since the _Delta Flyer_'s departure several days ago. Ship operations were business as usual. Harry Kim successfully completed the trade of raw minerals and ore which B'Elanna Torres eagerly and efficiently allocated to ever greedy (and needy) departments. The ship was certainly shaping up from her previous frazzled state since the pirates started their chase.

A sequence of sharp clangs sounded throughout the Bridge, causing the First Officer to quickly tap at his console to his right. Seeing nothing on sensors to indicate the source of the grating sound, Chakotay slyly glanced at the empty chair to his immediate right. Of its own accord, his gaze rested on the Ready Room's doors. He expected the captain to burst out, giving Paris a hard time.

"There's nothing to worry about, Commander." Ensign Kim looked up from his readings, eyes blurry from working double shifts in Engineering. "The station's antiquated environmental system has broken down. Station Central Control has been notified of the situation."

"Do they require assistance?" the XO inquired while thinking, _Spirits, I hope not…._

Although the opportunity for a safe harbor was always welcome, many of the intrepid crew were ready and willing to continue their journey. The interest and thrill of the ultra-capitalistic station merchants had undoubtedly worn off.

"Negative, sir," Kim promptly replied, eyes once again fixed on his console. "The malfunction was limited to the secondary concourse of _Voyager_'s gangway and successfully sealed for repair."

"Alright, set a course to rendezvous with the _Delta Flyer _at the pre-established coordinates," ordered the commander as he leaned back in his chair.

"Aye sir," called out the helmsman. His fingers danced across the panel and his nerves settled as _Voyager_ gracefully slipped further from the station. "Course laid in at Warp 3."

It would take _Voyager_ roughly a day to reach the away team at the lower warp factor. Naturally, this had been a topic of great discussion between the three senior-most officers prior to the captain's departure, but given the status quo, the feisty woman got her way. Of course, it was extremely helpful that Lt. Torres unequivocally stressed the magnetic restrictor assembly was on its last legs, as the patching of the last repair that temporarily fixed the initial break would not survive any further misuse—and unfortunately, misuse included simply functioning.

Chakotay released a silent sigh. His hackles were up for some reason, not able to shake the sensation of a predator stalking in the distance, waiting to strike. Although the layover at _Talnor_ was short, it provided ample opportunity for the pirates to locate and catch-up with them.

As the starship limped away without her characteristic speed and maneuverability, _Voyager_ was woefully more vulnerable to attack. The commander could only hope no one onboard the station transmitted their projected flight path.

"Engage," he ordered.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

With booted feet comfortably propped on the side of the flight control console, Captain Kathryn Janeway idly watched the stream of sensor data tick across the heads-up-display (HUD). Occasionally, she would pause long enough to gaze at the streaking star field and enjoy a sip of steaming coffee.

For several hours, the cockpit of the _Delta Flyer_ had stayed blissfully quiet as Seven of Nine regenerated on her PRU, Neelix slept in an aft bunk and the Doctor had deactivated himself. They were still at least a day out from rendezvousing with _Voyager_, but despite the calm of the trip, Janeway kept replaying her last conversation with Tammoi. The conversation itself didn't hint at any secret meaning other than to be on the alert, but the nagging question was be on the alert for what? There was no possible way the Inuldeans could have ascertained their heading until after they left.

Janeway sighed. She hated this, hated the constant paranoia that made her suspicious of every dark corner or leery of any smiling alien. These feelings had worn her down the last few years. She'd almost rather skirt past an interesting spatial anomaly rather than stop for a quick peek or even a few scans. However, this latest away mission had been, without a doubt, a resounding success with the procurement of a fully functional and compatible magnetic restrictor. So, these feelings were even more irritating than usual.

Her mind drifted as she continued to assess the sensor readings. Somewhere along the way her feelings of paranoia shifted to a sense of knowing. The data continued to trickle across the HUD. Absently, Janeway dropped her feet onto the deck, and finished the still steaming coffee. The hot liquid burned as her senses seemed to extend beyond the raw data.

Someone was out there . . . following them, watching—waiting.

Five minutes passed as the captain loosely held the yoke, her eyes still fixed on the ticking data. Was the data lying? Had her paranoia finally gotten out of control? Was she seeing threats where there were none.

Just as she was about to relax again and allow herself to believe it was nothing, Janeway saw it—a slight discrepancy in the tidal-like flow of the surrounding ionized space dust. Her mind raced as she displayed the projected currents with real-time. Quickly, she demanded a series of scans. All returned negative or inconclusive.

For nearly twenty minutes, Janeway continued to refine her query.

"Patient, aren't you?" the captain asked no one in particular.

Her gut insisted that someone was tailing them. She ordered the computer to run another set of scans and analyses. Sure enough, there was a small subspace disturbance off the starboard stern—hidden in the _Flyer_'s narrow blind spot and aided by the reflecting qualities of the ionized space dust riddling this sector. Normally, the said disturbance wouldn't be cause for concern or the computer would have triggered a proximity alert, but it was common for similar phenomenon to blink in and out on sensors when traveling through the fringes of specific dying nebulas. However, this object had maintained perfect distance with the shuttle for at least the last hour.

It had to be some form of stealth.

Quickly, Janeway brought up a detailed sensor grid for the immediate light-year. Their initial course was to drop out of warp and arc under the nebula on impulse, bypassing the larger pockets of unstable gas and damaged subspace created from the dispersing nebula. However, if something nudged the _Flyer_ just right, they would end up in a massive pocket and be reduced to thrusters—sitting ducks.

Suddenly, the proximity alert sounded. A small shuttle was sweeping in from upper port on an indirect intercept vector. If all three vessels held course, they would converge on the underside of the nebula, amidst the pockets.

Janeway tapped the side console, sending out a standard greeting to the inbound shuttle. _Follow protocol; give the inbound ship the benefit of the doubt._

A minute passed with no response. Then two, followed by three….

Time was quickly running out for this encounter to be a peaceful one.

"Red Alert, all hands to battle stations."

Immediately, the _Flyer_ was plunged into sober darkness laced with the slow flashing of a dull red as the klaxons sounded. The other three crew members entered the forward compartment, taking their stations. The captain barked out a series of orders. Seven readied weapons. Neelix located the largest pocket of unstable gases intersecting their current course. The Doctor monitored the subspace disturbance still trailing off the starboard stern.

The incoming alien shuttle continued to arc closer, still not responding to hails while the stealth ship slipped nearer.

A massive pocket of gas was directly ahead. The _Delta Flyer_ was going to have to drop out of warp to maneuver around the obstacles of flammable gas and damaged subspace pockets.

"Deploy a torpedo into the gas pocket directly ahead, on my mark," order Janeway, her grip settling on the yoke.

"Understood," Seven replied, entering the necessary commands.

"Igniting those gases will expose you to dangerous levels of synchrotron radiation. The shields can't offer reliable protection at this distance." The Doctor leapt from the aft station, hurrying to grab the appropriate med kit. Maybe he could find the appropriate hypospray to protect against toxic exposure before the captain got trigger happy.

The potential exposure to radiation was the last thing on Janeway's mind. Her eyes were still fixed on the ticking sensor data tracking the stealth ship. It was still edging closer….

Dropping the _Flyer_ out of warp, Janeway slammed the yoke forward, causing the shuttle's nose to dip down. "Now!" she ordered, engaging the impulse thrusters for additional maneuvering speed.

As the shuttle arced under the pocket, Seven fired a photon torpedo. The gases exploded as Janeway pulled back, pulling the _Flyer_ upward while swinging around another pocket of gas. She zipped around the obstacles, darting by additional pockets of gas, damaged subspace and stray asteroids held within the slight magnetic field of the nebula. All the while, she was highly cognizant of the deadly chain reaction gaining on them.

As one pocket burned and its gases gradually dissipated, the unstable gases fanned outward, eventually touching another pocket and another. Each, in turn, ignited and created a violently unpredictable daisy chain.

"An anti-matter explosion was detected, igniting adjacent gas vacuoles," Seven calmly stated. Her fingers moved across her board.

The anti-matter from the stealth ship escalated the already precarious situation.

"A second ship's heading right for us!" Neelix bounced in his seat.

The shockwaves from the exploding gases were merging into a single wave, continually increasing in mass and rate of consumption while the _Flyer_ dodged this way and that.

Suddenly, a phaser blast sliced into the _Delta Flyer_'s shields, causing the familiar blue/white sparkle.

"Idiots!" spat Janeway as she banked the shuttle hard to port, scraping her shield bubble against the alien's own. _Just a little bit further…._

Abruptly, the _Flyer_ was jolted upward and then immediately down again as they were no longer ahead of the shockwave but slowly slipping into it. The shields were weakening rapidly from the constant bombardment. Janeway entered a barrel roll, allowing the shuttle's reinforced keel to take the brunt of the blasts; plus, the ventral shield emitters were still holding at eighty percent. They had almost made it to the safety of the nullifying gases of the nebula's center when the _Flyer_'s main power went down.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

"Torres to the Bridge," snapped the Chief Engineer, slapping her combadge. Her intense stare was fixed on the hissing magnetic restrictor assembly mounted in its cozy nook between the warp core and the aft plasma conduit access panels in Main Engineering. She could actually see the piece of machinery start to vibrate under the stress.

"_Go ahead."_

The Engineering staff fluttered about in a vain attempt to stall the inevitable—the assembly was failing. Steam and smoke slowly seeped out of the power flow junctions connecting to the device.

"Commander, we need to drop to Warp 2—_now_." Before a response was given, Torres rushed to add, "Or we'll lose warp completely!"

The hissing was piercing now, but luckily, as soon as it started, it stopped as _Voyager_ dropped down to Warp 1.5. In that moment, Torres felt the ship enter a more natural state. The vibrations throbbing through her boots were the tune of low warp—a deep pulse that thumped like a heartbeat through a vein. Quickly, she grabbed a repair kit and dropped down into the small floor compartment.

"_Status."_

Torres almost forgot about the open comm-link. Snapping open a tricorder, she replied almost automatically, "The stress ratio has returned to acceptable parameters, but we can't risk anything higher than Warp 2."

"_Understood."_

With that, Chakotay closed the comm-link.

She could hear his frustration despite his quiet demeanor, but there wasn't anything she or anyone else could do about it until the captain returned—hopefully with a fully functional, ready-to-install assembly. In the mean time, Torres was determined to eek every last bit of life out of the failing restrictor.

Grabbing a PADD, Torres started entering her findings, composing a report for Kim and Paris to help them better gauge and understand the ship's temporary limitations.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

"It's a good thing I'm a hologram or I'd be quite the decorative splatter on the ceiling."

The captain blinked a few times as the world came into blurry focus. She squinted, forcing her burning eyes to adjust to the bright, ambient, blue-green hue of the nebula. Weakly, Janeway attempted to twist to assess the rest of the crew, but it was all for naught as she was firmly held stationary.

The Doctor waved a dermal regenerator over Janeway's right temple. His photonic fingers holding the patient's chin a tad tightly. "Before you ask, the crew is fine, just a few scrapes and bruises. I wish I could say the same about the shuttle." Finished with his masterful first aid, the Doctor released Janeway from his tender mercies. "You have a mild concussion, as does Mr. Neelix, but no one is worse for wear."

Now, the captain freely took stock of the forward compartment. Smoke filled the air, taking on an underwater quality from the nebula's glow. She swallowed, noticing the scratchy feeling in her throat.

Suddenly, the Doctor pressed a hypo-spray against her neck. "That should help with any residual pain and keep you hydrated. You're going to need it," he explained, finally stowing his equipment in a small med kit and stepping to the aft station.

Before the captain could ask about the _Flyer_'s status, the hatch hissed open, admitting Seven of Nine carrying a repair kit, followed by Neelix. Noticing Janeway's conscious and alert status, she said, "Communications, environmental control, navigation and impulse are all offline, damage nominal. I estimate 4 hours for repairs." She quickly wrapped her report up, stating the various degrees of damage per system and the most efficient means of mending the said offline systems.

Basically, most of the damage was easily fixed given the shuttle's store of extra components, aside from the environmental system. That would take some creative thinking, and unfortunately, it was also the most critical as the heat generated from the warp plasma conduits couldn't be properly vented given the circumstances. Although they still had warp power, it would be suicide to attempt such a tactic given their location within the nebula. Lowering the shields was also out due to the ambient concentration of synchrotron radiation, also due to their proximity to the nebula's center.

Overall, Seven of Nine was still quite impressed with Janeway's piloting skills. Not only did the captain manage to out pilot their pursuers, but she also protected the shuttle from a great portion of the devastating, sustained blast of the ignited gases.

"We're not going to last 2 hours if we don't turn off the heat." Neelix sat on the aft bench, having already shed his jacket. Beads of sweat started forming on his spotted brow.

"Agreed," Janeway's voice was low and rough from inhaling too much smoke. "We need to vent this smoke, as well." Absently, she tapped the sensor console, checking the status of the alien shuttle. "It seems our friends made it as well."

"They sustained marginally greater damage to impulse and navigation. If adequately skilled, they could have their ship repaired in 5 hours." Seven watched as Janeway nodded, pulling at the collar of her tunic.

Abruptly, Janeway stood, marching to the back access hatch, barking orders all the way. Seven was to focus on the impulse drive. The Doctor and Neelix were to start reinitializing the navigation and communication arrays. She didn't wait for confirmation as she trotted down the ladder-steps of the lab, preparing to tackle the environmental systems. Before grabbing a repair kit, Janeway slipped out of the uniform jacket, pausing long enough to affix her combadge to her tunic, then tossed it onto a bench before opening the Jefferies tube hatch.

A burst of heat escaped from the small crawl space. The air smelled of burnt circuits.

With a resigned sigh, Janeway crawled into the access hatch. She frowned, leaving the door open behind her.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

"We're arrived at the rendezvous coordinates, Commander," stated Lt. Paris as he dropped _Voyager_ out of warp.

"Hail the _Flyer_," Chakotay ordered, checking his panel.

"Um, there's no sign of the shuttle on sensors, Commander." Harry Kim looked down at his console, brows furrowed. He entered a series of commands, boosting the long-range sensors with the Astrometrics array—a tactic which usually proved unwarranted as Seven of Nine manually performed the high-resolution scans dictated by the captain. Sometimes, the young woman would know exactly what to scan before Janeway even asked, which Kim found highly frustrating. "I've setup a search parameter using Astrometrics, but it's going to take awhile, maybe 3 to 4 hours."

The commander nodded, not too concerned the away team was running late. After all, there was that nebula a few light-years away. Something could have caught their eye.

"Start with the nebula, Harry," the commander instructed.

"Aye, sir." Of course, Kim wasn't certain if the sensors would be able to pierce the ambient radiation of the decaying nebula, at least from their current distance. He and Seven still hadn't finished the algorithm necessary to reconstruct the distorted data retrieved from similar anomalies. It wasn't high priority, being somewhere near the bottom of the to-do list.

"_Torres to the Bridge."_

"Go ahead," replied Chakotay, still comfortably reclined in his command chair.

"_The magnetic restrictor assembly is cracked. We're not going to warp until the Captain brings me a new one."_

"Understood." The commander's molars ground together. This situation was going from bad to worse at break neck speed.

And as if the Universe read his mind, _Voyager_ was rocked by two phaser blasts.

The red alert klaxon sounded as Chakotay barked for shields. His large fingers jabbed at his console while he listened to Tuvok's report. A small ship—what the security chief classified as a raider during his examination of the pirate ship's capabilities—was a circling them, and two other raiders sped towards the fray from the general direction of the nebula.

Knowing that they would never respond to hails, Chakotay ordered Tuvok to open fire and Paris to take evasive maneuvers. Quickly, Tuvok destroyed one raider and disabled another, but the third managed to escape—jumping to warp—pulling the disabled ship in a tractor beam.

Chakotay ordered a stand-down to yellow alert, calling for a damage report.

"No causalities, but main power is fluctuating on Decks 12 through 15. Repair crews have been dispatched to hull breeches on Decks 8, 10 and 13," Kim relayed.

"Aft torpedo launchers and secondary phaser banks on the primary hull are offline," Tuvok responded. "Shields are down to 60%."

"I've lost starboard thrusters," Paris added.

Slowly, the commander stood from his chair. "What the hell did they hit us with?" Slapping his combadge, he called, "Chakotay to Torres, status."

"_We're in one piece and not going anywhere in a hurry."_

Chakotay would have smirked if the situation wasn't so dire.

"_You'll have thrusters back in about fifteen minutes. Maintenance estimates an hour on the hull breeches. The secondary phaser banks are going to take days to fix, but I sent a team to the aft torpedo launcher…."_

Shouts and hissing could be heard over the open comm channel. The commander knew things were spread pretty thin in Engineering at the moment.

"Understood, do the best you can, B'Elanna." With that said, Chakotay closed the channel. He paced for a moment before turning to Kim. "How the hell did their phasers do so much damage?"

But before Kim could answer, Tuvok supplied, "They used a triaxilating phaser blast to effectively pierce our shields."

"How's that possible?" Kim checked his readings. "None of the blasts maintained contact with our shields for longer than a second and none were recorded as breaking through the shield bubble."

"A phaser did not make contact with the hull, but rather a photon torpedo."

"Wow," whistled Paris. He raised his eyebrows, swinging his chair to face forward.

For the first time, the helmsman was duly impressed with the piloting skills of these pirates, if not a little rattled. Somehow, three separate vessels managed to simultaneously coordinate movements for all three to hit precise spots of _Voyager_'s shields within nano-seconds of each phaser blast. That took serious skill and intense training. Paris remembered his training days, how his squadron would work endlessly together to the point of being a family and trusting each other without fail. And now, Tuvok had gone and blown up their pirate buddies….

"Indeed."

Kim plugged away at this console. "How do you know, Tuvok?"

"The blast marks recorded by the maintenance crews are consistent with a compact, high-yield torpedo."

The idle speculation continued as Chakotay turned and faced the view screen, lost in his own thoughts. Things didn't look too good for _Voyager_. If they had warp, they would've already high-tailed it before the escaping raider could bring back reinforcements, and they'd be looking for the captain. Then again, if they had warp, they wouldn't be in this mess. They were playing a waiting game: waiting for the away team to arrive, waiting for the pirates to return, and waiting for repairs to be completed.

The commander's face settled in a frown. "Where are you, Kathryn?" he whispered to himself.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

"We just have to wait for the ECS to finish the startup cycle," Janeway said, absently rolling a glass of ice water across her forehead. Her eyes were closed, enjoying the sensation of cold. Beads of cooling condensation slipped down the sides of her flush face. God, she hated the heat.

Even though all the repairs were completed, the crew still had to wait for the environmental control system to finish its reinitiating cycle. It was a safety protocol built into all Federation ships—designed to protect the crew from any possible contaminants while the system was down.

"Tell me again why we just can't fly out of this nebula?" rasped Neelix, finishing another pitcher of ice water. He was the hardest hit by the heat wave, self-evident by his bare spotted, pot belly and his ungraceful sprawl on a bench in the back of the compartment.

"Because it'll cook us," Janeway answered after a long sip. "Catch-22."

Technically, the _Delta Flyer_ could be flown out of the nebula and the natural state of open space would sufficiently lower the temperature within the shuttle. Unfortunately, engaging the impulse engines without the proper venting of the plasma conduits would almost instantly burn them to a crisp before they ever exited the nebula. Typically, when environmental controls failed in such circumstances, a vessel would have to maintain a stationary position for days before interior temperatures reached dangerous levels—similar to when a macrocosm invaded _Voyager_. However, given the nature of the radiation within the nebula (which currently hid the _Flyer_ from its pursuers), the ambient temperature had risen to near critical levels in less than two hours.

"How about we catch that 22 and cook it?" Neelix slurred. He was becoming slowly delirious but was constantly being monitored by the EMH, like everyone else.

Janeway didn't answer as she pulled an ice cube out of her glass. The Talaxian was talking nonsense now. Slowly, she ran the cube over the various pressure points on her face, sighing from the brief respite the action offered. Her current position or attire wasn't much more gracious than Neelix's but quite more tasteful.

Since her tasks were completed, Seven of Nine had sat quietly at her station ignoring Neelix's incessant chatter while attempting to contact _Voyager_, but the nebula's radiation was proving to be a bigger obstacle than originally anticipated. Although she wasn't any worse for wear given the efficiency of her nanoprobes and the dermaplastic garment, her feet were definitely uncomfortable and perspiration had started to form around her hair line.

Seven glanced up from her work to do a quick visual check of her suffering crewmates and was transfixed by the sight that greeted her. Her eyes tracked a single bead of water as it trailed its way down the side of Janeway's face, over the strong jaw line (following it for a few seconds), and as it continued down a stretched and taut neck. Eventually, the droplet disappeared in the bit of cleavage afforded by the standard-issue, grey tank to which the captain had stripped herself down.

_It had been surprising to see the captain emerge from the Jefferies tube in nothing but the Starfleet-standard undergarments. Seven of Nine and the EMH were discussing proper medical procedure should anyone collapse from prolonged heat exposure when a loud thunk, followed by another, sounded from inside the access tunnel. Instantly, Seven moved to inquire about Janeway's status as she emerged from the open hatch. She merely raised an eyebrow at the completely disheveled older woman pushing her shoes and uniform out of the hatch before her._

Retrieving the last piece of ice, Janeway leaned her head forward, rubbing the cube across the back of her neck. She held it over the spine, hoping to stave off the impending headache.

Seven felt a flurry, or more accurately, a flush of emotion. She recognized the almost now-familiar feelings as the quiet and routine of their current predicament had offered Seven the chance to evaluate and quantify similar experiences, especially given her recent exposure in the Inuldean culture. But there were still questions. Unfortunately, her concentration was broken as she observed the captain finish her water, the ice having melted.

Bright blue-grey eyes looked up, head leaning back against the head rest.

Seven discreetly swallowed—in response to what exactly, she couldn't be entirely sure.

Unbeknownst to the Borg's inner turmoil, Janeway flashed a crooked grin as she slowly blinked, realizing she must look the sight. Her hair was matted down from sweat and water as she sat in the pilot's seat in only her standard grey tank and shorts with her bare feet propped up on the edge of a console.

"Have any luck?" the captain asked.

"No, Captain." Seven's reply was unusually meek, but Janeway made no mention of it, no doubt contributing it to the stifling heat they were all being subjected to.

The older woman rolled her head to glance at the sensor board, and sighed, "Thirty more minutes."

Seven's eyes freely traced the exposed flesh, noting the differences in musculature. Her heart swelled with pride at Janeway's commitment to train with Lt. Commander Tuvok, but there was also something else….

"This has to be some sort of perverse payback," Janeway mused aloud as she tilted her head back and stared straight up. "The Universe must be punishing me for all the snarky things I said to my mother when she went through menopause." She smiled, remembering all the veiled threats. Chuckling to herself, Janeway once again smiled openly at Seven. "Since you're faring so well in this heat, your nanoprobes may spare you that particular hazard of being female."

The captain held the gaze a little longer than usual. Maybe it was the heat getting to her, or maybe the slight difference in Seven…. Over an hour ago, the ex-drone had foregone the elegant twist for the simpler hairstyle of a ponytail at the nape of her neck—pulling the bulk of her blonde hair off and away from her face. A few tendrils too short to be contained hung loose, framing her face.

"Perhaps," Seven said, feeling a flutter deep in her abdomen. Something was happening here, she was sure of it, even if she didn't know exactly what, why or how. Mesmerized, the young woman watched as Janeway's smile softened without losing its intensity.

"My pot roast is going to burn!" Neelix cried out, standing up.

At the outburst, Seven had turned to the confused Talaxian. She was irritated at the interruption, but then her ears were filled with rich laughter.

"No, Neelix, your pot roast isn't burning—just us." Janeway chuckled lightly to herself, swiveling slightly in her chair. Suddenly her feet dropped to the deck as she reached forward, entering a series of commands and activating the environmental controls with a sigh of relief.

In a matter of minutes, the shuttle returned to standard Federation temperatures.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

"REPORT!" Chakotay shouted over exploding consoles.

Crew fumbled about the darkened Bridge, attempting to gain control of the situation.

A pirate ship, never before encountered, literally appeared out of nowhere off _Voyager_'s bow. Two small raiders were instantly deployed, phasers blasting—utilizing a similar attack as those previously. Their strike successfully disabled the Federation vessel in minutes.

"Helm control is offline." Paris leapt away from the helm as flames consumed his station. He scrambled to retrieve a fire retardant stashed in a nearby supply locker.

"Hull breeches on Decks 3, 6, 9 and 13. Containment fields are holding." Kim continued to rattle off other damages: impulse, communications, transporters were all offline.

Tuvok added, "Shields are down to 45%. Forward port and aft torpedo launchers are offline."

"Harry, reroute everything to the shields." Chakotay checked his console. "Keep firing, Tuvok. We have to hold them off until we can get impulse back online."

Slapping his combadge, he called for an update from B'Elanna, who didn't have any good news either. She required at least an hour to get the impulse engines functional.

"We don't have an hour!" he shouted before closing the comm.

Chakotay stared at the looming vessel on the viewscreen, hoping for inspiration.

Suddenly, one of the raiders exploded, its shockwave rocking _Voyager_.

"Harry?" the XO rose from his chair.

"It's the _Flyer_," answered the ensign, relief evident in his voice.

"Why didn't we see them coming?" Paris asked. He had put out the fire and was working on regaining thruster control. As far as his board indicated, they still had navigation and sensors.

"Doesn't matter because they didn't see them coming either," Chakotay said, rushing back to his chair. "Tuvok, concentrate on the main vessel." He watched the stats on his console. Without the raiders tag-teaming, the larger ship couldn't puncture _Voyager_'s shields. The First Officer released a shaky breath. They just might make it out of this yet.

The other raider and _Delta Flyer_ fought for a few minutes before the _Flyer_ was victorious. As luck would have it, the damaged raider slammed into the larger pirate ship's shield bubble, exploding on contact and undoubtedly resulting in substantial damage.

Chakotay willed the _Flyer_ to deal the finishing blow, and bring this chase to an end. However, that fateful shot was never fired as the shuttle hovered off _Voyager_'s port.

Eventually, the pirate vessel slowly pulled way, jumping to warp.

A few hours later, the First Officer read the captain's away mission report, curious to how events unfolded on her end. He couldn't help but smile at the uncanny luck that woman seemed to possess in spades. Essentially, Captain Janeway used the pirate's own tricks against them to save her ship: a particle flare, containing various unstable gases, could be triggered from the dying nebula, allowing a vessel to travel at full impulse undetected by conventional sensors.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

"I appreciate that you two have finally accepted my work habits, but isn't this jumping the gun a little?" Janeway attempted to make light of the First Officer and Chief of Security following on her heels into the Ready Room. Her intentions had been to read the various reports, catch up on _Voyager_'s latest adventures and state of repairs in relative peace.

"We believed it best to apprise you of the situation as quickly as possible," Tuvok answered, standing at ease before the captain's desk.

With a slow inhale, Janeway headed towards the replicator, hand idly caressing the rail. She stopped and tapped her fingertips against the metal. Things were definitely tense on _Voyager_ as the crew appeared a little extra haggard, though there had been a palpable sense of relief as she stepped onto the Bridge.

Chakotay moved around Tuvok, stopping at the base of the steps leading to the upper level. "The pirates have found a way to reliability breech our defenses. The past two attacks we've sustained heavy damages. If you hadn't arrived when you did, they would have taken the ship."

All the blanks would be filled-in by the reports, Janeway knew this, but she wasn't sure what Chakotay expected her to do about any of it, especially right at this moment. "Suggestions?" she asked in a low tone.

"We need to keep moving." The words almost rushed out of the commander's mouth.

"Not an option," countered the captain. "B'Elanna needs at least four hours to properly align the magnetic restrictor." She raised an eyebrow as Chakotay turned away, pacing.

Now, Janeway didn't actually ask Torres how long she needed. She just gave an educated guess being she was familiar with the procedure and her Chief Engineer. When Chakotay hailed Torres and inquired about warp, she merely crossed her arms as her estimate was verified.

Tuvok took that moment to offer, "Captain, may I suggest allocating the Astrometrics Lab resources to bolster long-range sensors?" He didn't need to elaborate the purpose of such a tactic.

"Coordinate it with Harry and Seven." Janeway nodded her dismissal.

Waiting till after Tuvok left, Chakotay sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "What good are the astrometric sensors going to do when we don't actually know what we're looking for?"

That was the price of the incredibly powerful scope of the Borg-enhanced imaging system. _Voyager_ could peek at space hundred of light-years away (given the right conditions—thousands), and with the aid of Borg reconnaissance data, construct a meticulous scan down to the sector's particle density of space dust. However, the data collection was slow and time consuming to build useable sensor logs in real-time—unless highly specific parameters were given to the computer.

"At the very least, it would act as an early warning system." Janeway ordered herself a cup of coffee. After taking a sip, she made her way to her desk. "And I'm sure between the three of them, they'll establish quite an efficient and effective search criteria." Janeway had complete faith in her crew. It was hard not to, given everything they'd been through the last six years.

"Alright." Chakotay relented, recognizing his jitteriness and paranoia for what it was. "But what are we going to do about the pirates?"

Leaning back, Janeway cradled the coffee mug in her hands. Her gaze swept the stars outside before slowly returning to her First Officer. "Only what we have to do."

He leaned onto the desk. His big hands spread across the metal surface. "They're hunting us."

"Yes, I know. And I also know they won't stop until they have either this ship or me."

=/\= =/\= =/\=

The last few days had been quite eventful onboard _Voyager_ as the wayward starship once again streaked towards home at high warp, thanks to the diligent efforts of her crew. Seven of Nine's duty docket had been full, helping restore the vessel to its prime operating condition. Lt. Torres was quite impressed with the replacement assembly as the superior craftsmanship of the Inuldean machinist increased power efficiency by point-zero-two percent, allowing for maximum warp to be sustained for an additional thirty minutes.

Naturally, this led to the captain being quite pleased, despite the subtle tensions gathering between her and the First Officer. Of course, no one had any idea of the cause, but that didn't stop the crew from speculating. However, it wasn't Janeway and Chakotay's relationship status that confounded Seven of Nine, but rather the young woman's personal relationship with the captain.

As the shifts blurred together and one day seamlessly merged with the next, Seven began to realize that she missed the older woman, missed her company—even her presence. Yet, she was unsure how to approach Janeway in regards to the matter. All developed ideas seemed juvenile or a display of weakness. Seven attempted to dismiss the notions of attachment as irrelevant, but the desire held fast.

The human desire for companionship reopened doors Seven had previously closed; still, there was something she needed to know before she could embark on any further endeavors in the matter.

One night, instead of returning to Cargo Bay 2 for her scheduled regeneration cycle, Seven of Nine went to find the holographic doctor.

"You failed to inform me females were a viable option for mates."

"Pardon?" the Doctor stopped, halting the scan of his current experiment.

Sighing, Seven waited for an answer, knowing the EMH heard her perfectly well. It was only the two of them in the Med Lab, in the entire Sickbay, actually.

"I didn't think you would be interested in dating women, Seven." Placing down his tricorder, the hologram turned towards the young woman. He was honestly concerned as it was rare for her to track him down over a personal grievance—in the middle of the night as it were.

"I was not interested in dating at all," countered the Borg. Since her conversation with Neelix on Inuldea, she had sufficient time to consider the ramifications of the Talaxian's statements as well as her recent actions and emotional responses. "You failed to provide me with the relevant scope of information necessary to make an informed decision."

Completely flabbergasted, the Doctor said, "You've never indicated a preference. So, I naturally assumed you would follow the majority—prefer a heterosexual relationship."

"I never indicated a bias in either direction."

Tentatively, he asked, "Are you interested in dating again?"

There had to be a reason why she was bringing this up, right? Why now, after a year? Perhaps it was simply curiosity after spending several days in a predominately female culture. Of course, it helped that she felt remarkably comfortable mingling with those people while escorting someone she trusted implicitly.

"I am undecided," Seven answered, a bit distracted with her self-analysis.

Hesitantly, the Doctor asked, "Are you interested in dating women? Anyone in particular catch your fancy?"

Of course, if the hologram had taken the time, he would have realized the young woman's far off expression wasn't one of speculative contemplation, but rather of a slight awareness which led to a gradual acceptance of her predicament. Then again, accepting something and having the confidence to act on it were two separate things entirely.

"If I were, I do not feel you would be the best individual to turn to for advice." Seven of Nine moved towards the pneumatic door leading to the corridor.

Undeterred by her disinterested tone, the EMH said, "Are you sure? You might need help with additional research? I would be more than willing—" The careful selection of Seven's words did not go unnoticed, but he still wanted to help his friend. Despite her casual bravado, the Doctor was quite aware of her loneliness because he was lonely, too.

"I do not think your assistance will be required at this time." Seven moved forward, activating the doors. Seeing the crestfallen look on the EMH's face unsettled her more than she had expected. Perhaps she was too harsh as he was only trying to help. "However, if in the future I have any questions, I would reconsider."

With those parting words, Seven of Nine returned to the comfort of Cargo Bay 2. Her current situation required further thought and consideration as she didn't wish for a repeat of past experiences.

She had to be absolutely sure.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

"_Astrometrics to the Bridge."_

"Go ahead, Seven," answered the captain from her command chair, foot swinging ever so slightly. It felt good to be back in the saddle, so to speak.

A couple of days of shore leave on a deserted planet had done wonders for the crew's morale. _Voyager_ was once again in fine condition, and the reserve stores had acceptable quantities. The best part of it all was the fact that there had been no signs of pirates for the entire two weeks since their last encounter.

"_The quantum singularity utilized by the MIDAS Array will be in optimal alignment in approximately 2 hours."_

"Understood." Janeway closed the channel, and ordered, "Tom, lets hold position here until we pick up everyone's mail."

"Yes, ma'am." Tom Paris smiled down at his console, doing as commanded. He was actually looking forward to hearing from his father.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Chapter 6:  
Repression Vignette


	6. Chapter 06 Repression Vignette

**Running Up That Hill:  
**A Janeway / Seven Story

**Author:** ladydameon  
**Co-Author(s) / Beta:** Lain Stardust

**General Disclaimer(s):** See previous chapter(s).

* * *

**Chapter 6:** Repression Vignette  
**Rating:** G / K+

**Summary:** While sharing breakfast, Captain Janeway inadvertently lets Seven of Nine a little closer.

**Author's Note:** Reading the previous chapter(s) is recommended. If necessary, please visit Chrissie's Transcripts Site for a reliable transcript of _Repression_ or for a more detailed synopsis.

* * *

**[Insert scene at END of the episode]**

Seven of Nine walked purposely through the empty corridors of _Voyager_. She generally preferred this time, the hour when the Gamma shift ended and Alpha shift began. Most of the crew on Beta rotation had long since settled in their quarters, which usually meant the Mess Hall was empty aside from a few earlier risers and Neelix. However, the day following Tom Paris's double feature movie night left many morning people snoozing in bed, clinging to those precious five minutes.

In the quiet dark, Seven requested a liquid nutritional supplement from the replicator and sat at her customary table. Sometimes she would work, especially if she was meeting someone for breakfast, but she hadn't made such plans for this particular morning. The young woman sat alone, contemplating her own existence. Given recent events, there was a lot for her to ponder.

The Astrometrics Lab still wasn't operating at full capacity. Although inconvenient, Seven of Nine couldn't dispute the necessity of the order. It was in the best interest of the ship. The real-time search algorithms developed by Tuvok, Harry Kim and herself had been extremely successful thus far, helping _Voyager_ to avoid at least three pirate attacks. However, the increasingly dwindling power reserves had begun cutting into the function of essential systems.

It was a never-ending battle.

Seven sighed.

She still hadn't been able to locate or devise a suitable power substitute, and then there was the pseudo fallout with the former-Maquis crewmembers.… A majority of the conflicts between ex-Maquis and Starfleet had happened long before she joined _Voyager_'s crew. As such, Seven didn't share their similar history—a fact that was constantly thrown in her face as neither side had truly accepted her, and both were often skeptical of her motives.

During the takeover, the disillusioned Maquis had stormed into Cargo Bay 2, separating Seven and the Borg children. This scuffle between the crew's primary factions made _Voyager_'s situation significantly more delicate. If they had been attacked, who knows what the outcome would have been.

She attempted to stop any further thoughts on that matter.

Her eidetic memory, furnished by the Borg cranial implant, was both a blessing and a curse. For every kind word said to or about her, Seven distinctly remembered ten equally unfeeling and cruel comments. Of course to be fair, she wasn't the most approachable person when first severed from the Collective. Still, there were only a few individuals (other than the Borg children) who keenly sought her out for non-work related activates. She could literally count them on one hand….

However, Seven's feelings of loneliness weren't simply an after effect of being locked away in the Brig for hours with no contact until she was released. Neither was it reminiscent of her days of being restricted to Cargo Bay 2. No, this isolation went deeper and served to develop other emotions she hadn't yet rationalized or even realized—until recently, after the away mission to Inuldea.

There were questions, so many questions; even so, Seven didn't feel comfortable enough to approach her friends, especially since the one person she would ask was the source of her present dilemma. So, she strove to repress the questions and emotions.

Her internal chronometer indicated the ship's time to be 0530. She looked to the double doors on the other side of the Mess Hall, expecting Neelix to bustle in. Five minutes passed, but the Talaxian never entered. It didn't make any sense for breakfast to be cancelled. The crew needed to eat, and a lot of people didn't have many replicator rations given the tighter power restrictions.

Suddenly, the lights went to full as there was a loud clang in the kitchen.

Slowly, the young woman rose, deposited her half-empty glass in the recycling receptacle and approached the galley's counter.

A frazzled Neelix popped up, wearing a rather loud, geometric-crazed hat and apron of orange and bright green. "Good morning, Seven," he greeted quite cheerfully, even though his eyes were bloodshot.

Almost immediately, Neelix turned away, spinning in place. "What am I going to cook?" In a state of mild panic, he rooted through the various cupboards and cabinets.

"These will do nicely!" Triumphantly, the cook pulled out a large tub of unpeeled potatoes. "Comfort food is definitely on the menu today."

Seven of Nine observed as Neelix cleared a surface and started chopping the spuds. There was no possible way he could finish preparing the vegetable before breakfast was scheduled to start. Raising an eyebrow, she continued to watch as Neelix chopped approximately six potatoes before tossing them onto a large griddle – with a slab of butter, a dash of salt and a sprinkling of pepper. It was quite the fascinating process.

Neelix ignored his audience although he was entirely aware of her intense scrutiny. After the first year of cooking for _Voyager_'s crew, there wasn't much that fazed the Talaxian in the kitchen. He had gotten quite adept at judging people's likes and dislikes as well as what special flare would make them feel appreciated. Food was essential, and it went a long way to help one's morale. Sometimes preparing a meal was just as therapeutic. He thought perhaps Seven could learn to appreciate that aspect of dining and prove that taste wasn't irrelevant.

"Seven, would you mind giving me a hand?" he asked gently.

"How may I assist you?"

He tried not to show his amusement as the ex-drone seemed downright eager, but calling her out on it wouldn't necessarily promote a positive experience. In a matter of moments, Neelix had provided the ingredients and explained the process of creating cream gravy. During his quick demonstration, he shared his initial revelation with the white sauce, and went on to explain its success with the crew.

"I hate to waste anything, so it was a happy accident the other day when I realized I could use the grease from the leola root crisps. Who would've thought a bit of lard would make all the difference?"

Seven of Nine looked down into the thickening mixture as the Talaxian went about his breakfast preparations.

Suddenly, Neelix was at her left, dabbing his finger into the gravy. "Needs a bit more salt…," he said adding the additional seasoning. With that, he popped back to his other tasks.

Tentatively, Seven tasted the gravy, mirroring Neelix's previous gesture. She glanced over at the cubed potatoes frying in butter and various seasonings. Via her heightened Borg senses, she analyzed the other breakfast components of eggs and sausage patties which were procured during the Inuldea away mission. Reaching a consensus harmonious to the human palette, the Borg added a liberal amount of pepper and an additional sprinkle of salt.

Neelix squeaked out an "Oh," quickly stepping back to Seven's left side. Noting her expectant look, the cook once again dabbed his finger to taste the gravy. He was pleasantly surprised. "This is excellent, Seven!" Pointing down into the pot, Neelix added, "Just keep stirring out the lumps."

Shortly after, the breakfast rush began, and Seven of Nine stayed to assist with the serving. Naturally, the crew was surprised.…

"I hear the gravy is _fantastic_ today," said Tom Paris as he saddled up to the counter. Carefully, he placed his full coffee mug down on the countertop, waiting for his tray. Paris paused, just realizing that Seven of Nine was serving instead of Neelix. "I didn't know you could cook, Seven."

The young woman examined the helmsman's face, seeing only his usual open, friendly expression which was par for their interactions. "I assisted with the preparation of the cream gravy," she offered.

"It'll be a few more minutes on the eggs, Tom," Neelix called, whisking another batch of egg yolks.

"No hurry, but you might want to refill the coffee canisters before you know who—"

With a thunk, an empty canister appeared on the countertop followed by a firm, "Neelix."

Seven watched as Tom and his coffee mug subtly edged a little further away from the newcomer.

"I'm sorry, Captain." The Talaxian bustled to start a fresh pot of coffee. He'd heard that tone many times, many different times of the day, but always with the same whiplash quality. "It'll just be a few minutes."

Finishing, Neelix turned and smiled. "Will you be having breakfast this morning, Captain? Seven helped with this morning's prep. The cream gravy is perfect!"

Janeway's brows furrowed. She raked a glance over Seven who responded with a slight dip of her head, and out of the corner of her eye, the captain saw a steaming mug of black coffee—filled to the brim. "I didn't realize you were interested in cooking, Seven," Janeway said, somewhat distracted by the steaming coffee, although, seeing Seven of Nine serving breakfast in one of Neelix's aprons came in as a close second.

Neelix relaxed, having successfully evaded the coffee-deprived captain. However, his relief was short-lived as the eggs had started to burn. He ignored the idle chatter between the three, for the most part.…

"Hey, that's my coffee," Paris said, trying not to pout. He was distracted by Seven's uncharacteristic behavior. _Did she just appear bashful?_ It definitely wasn't because of him; he knew that, but his determination to piece it all together caused him to miss the sly hand reaching for his mug.

"Captain's prerogative." Janeway almost sighed after the first sip. Gamma shift had been long and slow, especially after sitting through movie night on the Holodeck.

Two days ago, the Maquis rebellion kicked off at the tail end an Alpha shift. Of course, the captain spent most of the subsequent Beta shift confined to the Brig. The situation was fortunately under control by the following Alpha shift. All of this led to the current scheduling nightmare. After all of the shuffling for various reasons, Janeway was left working a double shift, having to put an appearance in at a social event and work yet another double shift today. Despite the fact that she was lucky to sleep a full six hours on a good night, _Voyager_'s captain was very tired, even with the catnaps she stole in her Ready Room.

Paris observed Janeway as she coasted on autopilot, just standing there as she sipped her coffee—_his_ coffee. Any lingering irritation dissipated when he noticed the extra dark circles under her eyes. He gaze caught Seven's. Each saw the other's concern.

"Chakotay covering the Bridge this shift?" he asked gently.

"No, he's still consoling," she answered, voice low as she took another sip. The captain had fielded her own share of those seeking reinsurance in the past 48 hours.

Paris nodded. He certainly understood the commander's need to be available to the crew. B'Elanna had been extremely distressed over the entire ordeal, as had other ex-Maquis and Starfleet. "Tuvok still meditating?"

The Vulcan needed time to regain his mental center after performing a mind meld with so many people in such a short period.

"He'll be back on duty by Beta shift," Janeway replied, draining the remainder of her coffee.

With a slight frown, Paris looked to Seven and Neelix. Everyone knew the captain worked hard, usually getting downright dirty with the crew, but enough was enough.

Neelix refilled Janeway's mug with the just finished coffee as he said, "Why don't you and Seven enjoy a hearty breakfast, Captain? I'm sure Tom wouldn't mind covering the Bridge till you get done." Slipping Seven out of her apron and shooing her out of the galley, the cook retrieved two trays and proceeded to load them up.

"I really wouldn't mind, Captain," said Paris, filling up another mug.

Janeway casually watched as Seven took her tray away from Neelix and wound her way to her (their) usual table. "That won't be necessary, Tom. Harry has it under control." She paid no attention as Neelix gave her an extra scoop of potatoes, but Paris did.… He was a little perturbed when he didn't get an extra serving on his own tray. However, the captain paid no heed to the good-natured squabble as she felt an invisible pull towards Seven of Nine.

On the sly, Neelix watched the two women settle in their usual corner. He didn't have any concrete proof, yet, but his gut told him something was happening between them, something big and powerful. Of course, it could all just be his imagination.…

"How are the children?" Janeway asked, settling her napkin across her lap.

Seven was erect and rigid, both key signs that something was wrong. To those fluent in Seven of Nine, an erect posture was indicative of feelings of uncertainty, while rigid movements usually indicated a medium degree of irritation. Thusly, the captain reasoned her breakfast companion was upset about something she was unsure of how to handle, but what the topic was would be anyone's guess.

"They are unsettled over recent events," Seven responded, settling her own napkin—mirroring Janeway's movements. Slowly her frustrations returned as she became flustered sitting alone with Janeway. Helping Neelix prepare breakfast was somewhat therapeutic and had allowed her to gain some semblance of perspective.

"That's certainly understandable." The captain tentatively tasted her breakfast and was pleasantly surprised. However, the good food was tempered by Seven of Nine's unusual restraint. It wasn't like the young woman to hold back her views, especially regarding the children. "I'm sure this has been very frightening as well as confusing."

After all, the adults were having a hard enough time dealing with the fallout, but given time, Janeway was sure things would return to relative normalcy. This time around, there wasn't any open hostility or passive-aggressive animosity, but shame and simple hurt feelings—primarily on the former-Maquis' side. Up until now, none of the children had been directly exposed to the faction conflicts on the ship.

_It's all just talk_, at least that's what Naomi Wildman told Captain Janeway when she started serving as Captain's Assistant. Now, the young girl had her entire world turned upside down as trust had been called into question. Janeway knew Naomi (and the Borg children) understood the logic of the situation—that it wasn't the crew's fault—but that didn't make the emotional ramifications any less difficult to shake off.

Naomi had been confined to quarters during the uprising, but she had her mother.

Separated from Seven of Nine, the Borg children had been dragged from Cargo Bay 2 and tossed in the Brig: Icheb in one cell while Rebi, Azan and Mezoti were in another.

Taking another bite, Janeway traded her fork for her mug. She took a slow sip, enjoying the smooth, bitter hot liquid. It was clear something other than the Maquis rebellion was bothering the younger woman, but she refused to respond to the usual bait. Seven had taken guardianship over the Borg children very seriously—never missing an opportunity to speak on their behalf. The captain expected an earful after their recent treatment, but the protective spit and sputter hadn't yet emerged.…

"Last night, we established contact with a Wysanti ship interested in meeting Rebi and Azan." Janeway stabbed a piece of potato, carefully gauging the young woman's reaction. She waited a few more seconds before adding, "We probably won't rendezvous for at least a week."

"I will disseminate the relevant cultural data."

Janeway hadn't expected that answer, especially given Icheb's experience with his own parents. As a long pause settled between them, the moment felt strained and awkward, not remotely reflecting their usual comfortable and familiar silences.

"Any updates on those clusters of micro-nebulas 10 light-years out?" The captain took another slow sip, fully expecting Seven to launch into a full dissertation of the phenomenon. After all, the Borg was nothing if not thorough, even passionate, about her work.

"The task progresses slowly given Astrometrics's current power allocation restriction," Seven answered, her voice flat and neutral.

Sighing, Janeway set her mug down as she waited for the other shoe to drop—the inevitable rationale that the young woman could find resources faster, more efficiently, if permitted to operate her department at peak processing power. And usually, the captain agreed, but not when _Voyager_ had been scrimping and scrapping by for months on end. No sooner did they get ahead, they were back to square one. To add insult to injury, they were still being pursued by the pirates.

"You know I can't authorize—"

"I understand, Captain," Seven interrupted tersely.

Janeway raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips into a thin line as Seven's eyes darted from the partially eaten breakfast to her face and back down again. She waited a few moments before finally asking, "Seven, what's wrong?"

Unsure, Seven rolled her shoulders under Janeway's scrutiny. Her gaze swept over the moderate crowd still dining and socializing in the Mess Hall. She softly proclaimed, "Recent events have further illustrated my degree of isolation amongst this collective." She paused for a moment, her gaze returning to focus on the woman sitting across from her. "Few individuals proactively seek my companionship aside from large group recreational activities."

_Oh, boy!_ Janeway blinked a few times, totally broadsided by the young woman's troubles. Quickly, she searched the Mess Hall, giving herself time to regroup. In her sleep deprived state, the captain didn't feel confident navigating this latest emotional minefield. She considered skirting the issue, filing it away for another day. But when those large, blue eyes looked at her, expecting something, Janeway could almost believe she saw yearning. She mentally shook herself; getting disillusioned wouldn't help anyone. "Why do you think that?"

There was a heated spark in Seven's eyes as she said, "I was locked in the Brig . . . alone." She had been completely separated from her Collective. She continually felt cast aside, left out and merely tolerated. As irrational as these feelings were, it didn't negate the fact that they were already there, just brought forward by recent events.

"I realize you don't necessarily have fond memories of the Brig, Seven, but that doesn't mean no one values your friendship." Janeway pushed her half-eaten breakfast aside, focusing fully on the woman across from her. Slowly, the captain reached out, lightly ghosting fingertips over the back of Seven's hand. "You have a lot to offer. You just don't know it yet, and neither do the members of this crew."

Unbeknownst to either woman, Ensign Mart Machesney, an ex-Maquis, had settled down at an adjacent table to eat his breakfast—his back facing them—a means to offer the illusion of greater privacy. Although he never mind-melded with Tuvok, he was still a little twitchy over the Maquis rebellion, and sitting closer to the captain instilled a little extra bit of security. Eavesdropping on a private conversation was never his intention.… His captain's voice was low and rough. He could almost feel the emotion behind the words.

Janeway's thumb absently stroked Seven's hand as she asked, "Being in the Brig, is that where these feelings stem from?" She tried to catch the younger woman's gaze, but her eyes kept shifting. "You weren't contained because no one likes you, Seven. They considered you a threat."

Seven snapped a hard look onto the captain. "Because I am Borg," she spat.

Instinctively, Janeway took a hold of Seven's hand, stroking more firmly. She was in a difficult spot. She couldn't deny it, but she didn't want to admit it, either. Gently, she said, "Yes." There was a complicated explanation to go along with that very simple answer, but for some reason she couldn't articulate any of it.

Hearing the captain say it, Seven wanted to flee, but she didn't. She couldn't move as she was fixed in place by some invisible force. For a silent moment, she studied Janeway; there was something in those blue-grey eyes, something familiar and safe, something to be trusted. "I understand," Seven said finally. It was during moments like these that everything seemed to make sense and that there was a definite purpose to her state of being.

_What?_ Machesney thought. _I wish I could see their faces. This would all make a hell of a lot more sense._

He was well aware of the lower deck rumors. That the Borg was Janeway's pet project, something to whittle away the hours, or that Seven of Nine was being trained as the perfect Starfleet officer. It was also a known fact that the First Officer had wanted nothing to do with the ex-drone. His adamant opinion was that Seven of Nine be put off-ship, but he tolerated her to appease Janeway. There were countless other attitudes and criticisms about the young woman. And for his part, Ensign Machesney couldn't care one way or another, but hearing them talk, hearing Seven of Nine's plight firsthand struck a chord.

The captain found herself standing at a very familiar precipice. Her heart and mind battled for supremacy, but ultimately, practicality won. "If you're looking for companionship, Seven, all you have to do is ask. Let yourself be available." With a reassuring pat, Janeway released the captive hand and sat back. "The crew's just used to you preferring solitude. Now, if you want to change that, you need to make the effort." Absently, she reached for her coffee mug, taking a sip.

"Perhaps," Seven said. "But how should I proceed?"

Janeway frowned into her mug, disappointed it was now empty. From the line at the counter she spied from her seat, she would go without for a tad longer. "Well," she said, setting her empty mug on the table, "you could try attending the social events you find interesting. Eventually, the crew will warm up and start expecting you to be there, even asking if you're going to attend." She could tell Seven of Nine doubted her advice. "It's like that with anything worth having, Seven. If you want something badly enough, you need to pursue it."

Something clicked for Seven at that moment; despite the ambiguity, everything started to make sense. Even though she wasn't prone to feelings of intuition, simply knowing of the experience via various crewmembers enabled her to trust it. She focused on Janeway, a ghost of a smile on her face. "I believe I understand, Captain."

The captain grinned, pleased they had successfully adverted an emotional Borg breech. "Good," she said leaning forward, elbows resting on the table, all in an effort to hide the shiver that traveled along her spine and the resulting goose bumps. "So, have any ideas?" Janeway asked, her voice low, drawn to the light in Seven's eyes.

Machesney frowned at his breakfast. He couldn't make out the captain's last question. Again, the ensign wished he could see their faces.

Considering her answer, Seven watched the Mess Hall patrons. She finally returned to the red yoke of Janeway's uniform. Following the subtle slope of the strong shoulders she knew lay underneath, her eyes fixated briefly on the four gold pips on the grey tunic's collar, up the neck, along the jaw line.… Her eyes stopped at the still smirking lips. Immediately, Seven cut her explorations short, gaze snapping to the captain's eyes then away again. A flutter of emotion racked through her, panic that she'd been caught.

"I shouldn't pry. I'm sorry." Janeway said, feeling as if she was perhaps pushing Seven too hard, too fast. A moment passed with no response from the younger woman. "I had thought the Maquis would've been more accepting of you: non-Starfleet, an outcast of sorts, in some ways a kindred spirit.…" She picked up her fork and started poking her now-cold breakfast.

Not feeling the heat of blue-grey eyes on her, Seven looked back at Janeway. "I have read the logs and examined the sensor readings associated with _Voyager_'s arrival and subsequent stranding in the Delta Quadrant."

"I remember," Janeway snorted, not looking up. That had been one wild day—one that forced the captain to think about a great many things.

"My discomfiture and assumptions over the incident notwithstanding, the data remains the same," Seven said pointedly. After her recovery from downloading too much information too quickly into her cortical node, she had finished researching the topic, considering every angle, every possible opinion, until developing her own. "Although I was not present during the original event, my opinion deserves just as much credence as any other crewmember's would."

"Yes, it does."

Ensign Machesney felt his chest tighten. He was slightly nervous over hearing this particular portion of the captain's private conversation with Seven of Nine. The little devil who sat on his shoulder even cowered. Nevertheless, Machesney's curiosity won out.

It had been a long time since anyone had broached the cause of _Voyager_'s plight. Now, their situation was simply a matter of fact and mere circumstance. Few ever had the nerve to voice their opinion directly to Captain Janeway back then and even less did now. What happened to those who had? Well, the Fates saw them to early graves.

When the captain gave the order to destroy the array, Machesney believed their lives were over, as surely as if the Kazon or Caretaker had killed them. They were bound to be put off ship, imprisoned or forever doomed to servitude. However, Captain Janeway proved him wrong, and he freely admitted it. Yes, things got off to a rough start, but the crew—aside from the _Equinox_ remnants—couldn't be happier. At the very least, they were content. Yes, he missed his grandparents in the Alpha Quadrant, but the monthly letters helped quell those feelings. In the last six years, Captain Janeway had kept them all safe and healthy, only losing six crewmembers after the initial loses while getting them thirty-thousand light-years closer to home.

That was damned impressive as far as Ensign Machesney was concerned. Here he was, a certified nobody from a human mining colony in the Demilitarized Zone and he was the lead Beta shift pilot, second in line for Chief Helmsman. Machesney was very proud of that fact, especially since Chakotay never let anyone near his ship's helm. Suddenly, the ensign realized neither woman had spoken.

Seven of Nine wanted to continue down this avenue of conversation. She wanted to express her opinions and thoughts further. But she didn't, instead remaining silent while patiently waiting for Janeway to look at her.

_Where is Seven going with this? And how the hell did we go from her wanting more friends to the damned Caretaker?_ Janeway fought the urge to physically shake her head. The Borg certainly did have a talent for blindsiding her. Raising her eyebrow, she crossed her arms, still leaning on the table.

They stared at each other. Seven saw a hint of hidden confusion—a rare occurrence, indeed.

"From my research, I would have surmised that the Maquis would agree with your decision to destroy the array." Seven of Nine had delved deep into the principles and missions of both Starfleet and Maquis. What she found didn't impress her, but what had impacted the ex-drone were the actions of _Voyager_'s crew, coupled with the seemingly never-ending compassion and tenacity of their captain.

"That's a very bold statement." Janeway's eyes cut to the back of Machesney's head, but quickly darted back to Seven.

The young ensign felt the hard glare as he continued to slowly eat, pretending to read his PADD.

"It is one I believe you support."

"I'll admit I was surprised by the lack of Maquis favor over the decision." It was something Janeway never pushed with Chakotay and probably never would. Of course, some things were best left as water under the bridge.

"Consequently, your decision saved an entire species and their home world from certain brutality and servitude, possibly extinction. Logic would dictate that action held true to the Maquis desires to save their own home worlds from a similar fate," Seven of Nine said.

Machesney flinched, understanding what Seven was saying.

Janeway sighed. When the last vestige of breath was forced from her lungs, she took a refreshing, fortifying breath and gave Seven a soft smile. "We have to learn from our past transgressions while moving forward, Seven. Sometimes we may stumble and we're bound to make mistakes, but eventually it happens."

It was a sound tactical decision and the only one that would have saved the greatest number of lives, on all sides—Federation, Maquis, Kazon and Ocampan. The data was public record, there for anyone who would bother to examine it: mission records, sensor logs, personal accounts of the event. Destroying the Caretaker's Array wasn't merely a means of saving the Ocampa, it was the only way to save _Voyager_. Jabin, the Kazon-Ogla leader, had already called for reinforcements, and despite sustaining heavy damages, he still managed to lay down continuous, heavy weapons fire. _Voyager_'s weapons array was already severely damaged. The starship was vulnerable and wouldn't be able to hold the line for the several hours required to initialize the program capable of returning them to the Alpha Quadrant. So, the Captain of _Voyager_ took her best option: save a world, stop the Kazon from obtaining incredibly powerful alien technology, and live another day. After all, chances were if they survived, they could find another way home.

Suddenly, Ensign Machesney lost his appetite, pushing his half eaten breakfast away.

Oh, how mighty the Maquis stood against the self-serving attitudes of the Federation and Cardassian Union. However, when others needed help, they all turned a blind eye while praying for their own selfish wants and desires, getting involved only when it suited their purposes. The Maquis as a whole weren't saints. During the course of destruction and violence against Cardassia, they committed unspeakable crimes against anyone who got in the way, even other Maquis. Chakotay's cell was one of the better ones, despite harboring a Cardassian spy, a psychopath, and a traitor.

Slowly, Machesney stood, taking his tray with him. _I certainly got more than I bargained for._ After depositing the leftovers in the recycler, the ensign took another step towards the double pneumatic doors, activating them. For some indistinguishable reason, Machesney stopped and turned back towards the captain and Seven. While the Borg had a ponderous look on her face, Captain Janeway simply gave him a small smile. He did a quick glance to see if anyone else was nearby. But when the ensign returned his gaze to the captain, he was greeted by an openly amused grin—one he couldn't help but return. Somehow, he felt lighter. With a nod to his captain, Ensign Machesney left to start his shift.

"Ensign Machesney was eavesdropping," Seven said, matter-of-factly and slightly annoyed.

"I know," replied Janeway, turning to face Seven fully. "A word of advice: never have a private conversation in a public place without having a very good reason for doing so."

Arching her implanted brow, Seven considered the implications of the statement. "Damage control," she said.

"You got it." Janeway winked. Curiously, she watched as Seven once again broke eye contact while wondering what was going on with her. As the younger woman's gaze returned, it stopped, seeming to linger at her.… _Oh_, she thought. _Oh my_. Certainly, this wasn't happening, perhaps her exhausted brain playing tricks on itself—projecting.

A surge of confidence settled within Seven of Nine as she felt empowered from the intellectual conversation. "I believe I shall take your advice, Kathryn."

The captain's ears felt awful warm as her chest fluttered. Casting a quick glance to notice an empty Mess Hall, Janeway asked, "What's that?"

Holding the captain's gaze, Seven explained, "Mr. Paris has rescheduled the high-rollers pool tournament for tomorrow night. He has suggested on several occasions that I may possess a superior aptitude for the sport, and I should receive private instruction from someone with not only skill, but with finesse and style." Originally, she had absolutely no desire or intention to take part in the activity, but that was before Janeway stated she should pursue her interests.

Chuckling, the captain said, "That sounds like Tom."

"The tournament would offer sufficient opportunity to observe prospective mentors, and learning this group activity would offer suitable means for additional social interactions." Seven paused before asking, "Will you be participating?"

_Well, are you?_ Janeway considered Seven's request. Paris had been bugging her off and on for a month about the damned tournament. Of course, she would never commit and after this last week, she should really take the time to recharge her batteries, enjoy a little me time. "I suppose since I stole his coffee I should put in an appearance." _I haven't been to one of Tom's events since Fair Haven. Wait, did I just agree to go?_

"Very well, Kathryn," Seven said, standing. Her sudden courage hastily running out, she took up both trays. Offering Janeway her unique smile, Seven said, "I look forward to your performance." Not waiting for a response, she quickly deposited the trays in the recycler and left the Mess Hall. There was a strong desire to look back, see Janeway one last time, but she didn't.

After the doors closed, Janeway continued to stare. "What was that?" she whispered. She'd had absolutely no intention of participating in the pool tournament, especially since she wasn't going to go—until Seven of Nine asked her to. The captain fell back against her chair, relieved no one was around to see her befuddled state.

Mentally, Janeway backtracked through their breakfast conversation and other interactions in some vain attempt to make sense of what just happened, how she was so easily handled. She stopped again at her earlier ah-ha moment. Running a hand down her face, the captain looked up. Before she did anything else, Janeway had to make sure, had to be absolutely certain that it wasn't what she was thinking.

Yet, it was blaringly obvious. How the hell didn't she notice it earlier?

Sighing, Janeway rested her chin in her hand, staring out the viewport. It was probably just a little crush and Seven in all probability didn't even realize what it was. Certainly nothing to get all excited over, although a single-sided attraction was much easier to handle.…

She frowned. Had she inadvertently led Seven on? No, that couldn't be it. Seven of Nine wasn't someone prone to rash or whimsical decisions.

Grunting, Janeway stood, snatching her coffee mug off the table. She definitely didn't need any further complications onboard ship, let alone her life, at the moment. Refilling the mug, the captain decided to be more aware of how she interacted with Seven of Nine.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Chapter 7:  
Imperfection Vignette


	7. Chapter 07 Imperfection Vignette

**Running Up That Hill:  
**A Janeway / Seven Story

**Author:** ladydameon  
**Co-Author(s) / Beta:** Lain Stardust

**General Disclaimer(s):** See previous chapter(s).

* * *

**Chapter 7:** Imperfection Vignette

**Rating:** G / K+

**Summary:** Seven of Nine makes a decision.

**Author's Note:** Reading the previous chapters is recommended. If necessary, please visit Chrissie's Transcripts Site for a reliable transcript of _Imperfection_ or for a more detailed synopsis. As previously mentioned in the Author's Notes of Chapter 4, _Imperfection_ aired before _Drive_ and _Repression_, and are viewed in that same order on the Season 7 DVDs. Again, this is our first major deviation from visual canon, which is not done arbitrarily. Unlike the series' previous rearrangement of episodes for presentation purposes, _Imperfection_ wasn't meant to be shown out of the production order, and as such, the episode creates several key contradictions in the _Voyager _timeline: Tom Paris wearing a wedding ring before his marriage to B'Elanna Torres (_Imperfection_), the new Delta Flyer being constructed before it's tested (_Drive_), etc.

* * *

**[Insert scene at END of episode: Early Alpha Shift]**

Concluding her visit with Icheb in Sickbay, Seven of Nine wandered into the Mess Hall, unsure of what to do since the CMO was keeping her on medical leave status—wearing a cortical monitor, no less—for the next twenty-four hours. She found the room empty, which was normal. Lunch wouldn't be served for several hours, yet.

During Seven's six day regeneration, the crew had managed to fill the dilithium tanks, restoring _Voyager_ to full operational capacity, thus allowing the Astrometrics Lab to resume standard functions. Currently, they were on course to an M-Class planet. The Delaney sisters had located the planet in response to the mineral and ore requests of Engineering and several other departments. With no sign of possible pirate pursuit, Captain Janeway gave the order to adjust course. The rumor mill was abuzz with the possibility of shore leave.

"Hello, Seven," Neelix greeted her, stepping out of the galley to place a bowl of fruit on the counter. "You just missed breakfast, but I could fix you a snack."

Turning to face the Talaxian, Seven replied, "Thank you, that won't be necessary."

"Let me know if you change your mind," he said slipping back into the kitchen. Neelix continued about preparing the night's dinner, a fusion stir fry. He thought something crisp and fresh from the Aeroponics Bay's latest yield would help maintain the crew's excitement for possible shore leave and promote the idea of being outdoors. Not to mention, the dish was extremely easy to cook once the ingredients were cut.

Humming, Neelix began trimming the various vegetables, casually noticing Seven of Nine watching him from the counter. He smiled to himself, realizing that he had missed the Borg's quiet presence. Surprised, Neelix was immensely pleased when Seven asked, "Do you require any assistance, Mr. Neelix?"

"I would love any help you'd be willing to give, Seven." The cook smiled and cleared off a suitable work area, all the while explaining what he wanted Seven to do for him: slice, chop, mince and julienne vegetables. He did a quick demonstration on each type of vegetable, explaining why each was prepared a certain way. Naturally, Seven of Nine got the idea and technique the first time.

The pair worked in relative silence, but Neelix couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that something was wrong. If he didn't know any better, he would say Seven seemed distracted. Of course, she wasn't on duty, and everyone knew she preferred to work in the Astrometrics Lab. Certainly, she didn't want to hang out in the kitchen.

"Neelix," Seven said, never looking up from her task—mincing garlic. "May I ask you a question regarding a personal matter?"

"Of course," he replied as smoothly as possible. _A personal matter?_ Neelix was torn between elation and trepidation. Was it him, or did Seven seem to be doing this a lot more often?

Seven continued cutting, moving on to the carrots. She wanted to ask while the opportunity afforded it, but was not quite sure how to articulate the precise question. Of course, all of this uncertainty only served to irritate and fluster her more. When it came to technical dialogue, she had absolutely no problem; yet, things of a personal or emotional nature were a whole other matter. Finally, she said, "I am having conflicting feelings."

Neelix nodded, more for his own benefit. Automatically, he assumed it related to Icheb's current condition. "Icheb's going to be fine," he reassured. Sometimes comfort took more than a doctor's word, such as someone else believing it with you.

"I am confident Icheb will make a full recovery," Seven replied assuredly. "However, I am having difficulty reconciling an individual's actions during my convalescence."

Pursing his lips, Neelix thought back to the various happenings those two weeks Seven of Nine was essentially dying. He couldn't remember anything out of the ordinary, per se—at least nothing that wasn't expected, considering the situation. Tom Paris was a little antsy, though, everyone had assumed it was because of the severity of the procedure. But then again, wasn't the surgery spurred on by Icheb?

"Icheb just wanted to help," Neelix said.

Seven corrected the Talaxian's assumption. "I have come to terms with his actions." Of course, that didn't mean she had to like it, but regardless, she was proud of Icheb, proud of the individual he had become. The young man was grasping and understanding emotional concepts which had initially eluded her.

"Oh," he said, dumping his sliced veggies in a bowl. _It might be best to wait on Seven for this one.…_

"She wanted to take a live drone's cortical node." Seven stopped chopping, as she found that saying the words felt totally different from hearing them. The reality was hard to rationalize as Captain Janeway was also the same person who had purposely gotten herself assimilated to save complete strangers.

"The Captain?" Neelix guessed, watching Seven.

"Yes."

Cutting his gaze away for a moment, Neelix stepped over to the young woman. "It's not really surprising, Seven. Captain Janeway cares a great deal about her . . . crew." He knew he was missing something important from the expression on Seven's face.

"The Captain has instilled in me a value for all life." Seven looked up from her pile of julienned carrots as she said, "She was willing to risk her life to save me." She fixed Neelix with a hard stare and softly added, "She was willing to take another life for mine."

The rationale for a captain to sacrifice oneself or a few individuals for the greater good of the ship was logical, made complete sense. However, Captain Janeway's recent actions weren't as clear to Seven of Nine, which only served to confound her. There was no real guarantee that the first live node would have been successfully transplanted. That thirteen-point-one percent could have just as easily reared its ugly head with Icheb's cortical node, leaving one or both ex-drones dead. Naturally, this begged the question of what the captain would have done if the operation hadn't been successful.

_Why is Seven reacting so strongly? _With furrowed brows, Neelix asked, "How do you know this?"

"I overheard Lt. Paris and the Doctor talking during my visit with Icheb," Seven explained.

"_So . . . Icheb and Seven, they're going to be alright?" Tom Paris asked, peering at the ex-drones through the office window. At the lack of response, he turned and leaned against the half wall, crossing his arms._

"_They'll be fine. Icheb will be back to normal inside a week," the EMH finally said, never looking directly at Paris. "Seven's perfectly fine now. I simply preferred that she slowly transition back into her normal routine."_

"_Just in case," Paris finished softly. _

"_Just in case," the Doctor echoed._

_Shifting, as if uncomfortable, Paris asked, "How'd you talk her out of it?"_

_The EMH had spun in his desk chair, entering and checking various inconsequential things on his workstation. "I don't know what you're referring—"_

"_Come on, Doc!" Taking a big step forward, Paris dropped his palms heavily onto the desktop. "We both know she was ready to take on an armada of cubes to get Seven a new cortical node."_

"_You'd do well to keep your voice down," hissed the hologram, finally looking at Paris. "This is a Sickbay." He paused, gaze cutting away and back. "I didn't actually talk her out of anything. I simply reminded her I wasn't giving up, and that despite our best efforts, we might have still lost Seven."_

_Standing upright, Paris looked around a bit aimlessly before sliding into the visitor's chair. He wasn't really sure what to say as he had hoped the Doctor would alleviate some of his anxiety and concern for his captain. "Have you mentioned this to anyone?"_

_Startled, the EMH narrowed his eyes at Paris. "What? Absolutely not, and neither should you for that matter, Mr. Paris." He was caught off guard by the strange look on the lieutenant's face._

"_Don't worry," Paris said as he stood, looking out the office window at the ex-drones again. "My lips are sealed." He paused for a few moments, lost in thought. Eventually, he asked, "Do you need me for anything else today?" His duty shift wasn't slated to end for another four hours._

"_No," the Doctor waved absently, almost happy Paris asked to leave early. "Go on, I can handle things here." He pursed his lips as Paris nodded his farewell and gave Seven a brief wave on his way out. There were a lot of delicate decisions to consider._

"Eavesdropping, Seven?" Neelix lightly scolded. There were plenty of times he'd gotten in trouble himself by 'overhearing' conversations. "Things can quite easily be taken out of context, especially if you can't see their expressions."

"Irrelevant." Seven turned and faced Neelix. "Tonal differentials in speech are more reliable than simply observing facial expressions." She raised an eyebrow, almost daring him to question her precision.

"Alright, alright," he said, waving his hand about in the air. Neelix leaned against the side of the counter. After thinking for few moments, he had a good idea what Seven's personal matter might be, but he needed her to say it. He certainly didn't want to direct her someplace prematurely. "So, what exactly is your question?" Intently, he watched as Seven was about to speak . . . but stopped before even opening her mouth.

Seven of Nine was becoming frustrated over her inability to voice her rather simple question. She kept searching around her as if the environment would somehow help. "How do you know when you are attracted to someone?"

Nodding as he mulled the question over, Neelix took stock of the unusual shifts in the Borg. The rather meekly asked question was tainted with uncharacteristic uncertainty in her eyes—at least, as far as Seven of Nine was concerned. Suddenly, he felt an enormous amount of pride. _She came to me,_ he thought. With that pride, he also felt the overwhelming weight of responsibility settle across his shoulders. "Have you talked about this with the Doctor?" he asked.

"No," Seven answered. "I am uncomfortable asking for guidance from him on this topic."

"Okay," he nodded, thinking. _Best to avoid that.…_ "Just so that I'm clear, would you try to describe what you're feeling?"

Taking and releasing a slow breath, Seven resumed preparing the vegetables as her mind reviewed all of her previous research. After a few moments, her voice was soft as she spoke. She described the flutters in her stomach in response to a simple smile, the tightening sensation in her chest when she was the sole focus of the person, the indescribable warmth at laughter, and the invisible pull to be near.

Neelix was surprised by the elegance with which Seven relayed her feelings, even through her self-perceived inadequacies. He also realized what she laid out for him was more than simple attraction. She had described the fledglings of romantic love. Of course, Neelix couldn't very well tell her that. It wouldn't do at all.

_Oh, sounds like you're in for one heck of a ride, Captain._ The Talaxian was precariously caught between a cringe and a laugh. He knew for a _fact_ half the crew would love the opportunity to date—or more accurately, have sex with—Seven of Nine. Thus was the curse of being considered attractive, as it was in most humanoid cultures. On the other hand, getting a date with Seven had oddly improved Lt. Chapman's luck with the ladies. All of this proved the crew's interests were primarily physical in origin; very seldom had anyone expressed any true interest in Seven's intellect or personality, aside from a select few.

However, Neelix also knew better than to drop the L word. Seven would have to discover and determine that aspect of relationships for herself, but his instincts told him she had already fallen. Of course, Neelix held a special place in his heart for _Voyager_'s feisty leader but had long ago accepted the impossibility of such a relationship. He caught Seven's expectant look, had seen her give the very same look to Captain Janeway many times in the Mess Hall over breakfast.

"Well," Neelix cleared his throat. "I think it's safe to assume you're attracted to Captain Janeway."

"Are my reactions that transparent?" Seven asked, slightly horrified as she finished with the last carrot.

Mentally kicking himself, he said, "No, not at all. It's just that impartial observers are better at being objective."

"How does one know when another is attracted to you?" Seven deposited her various piles of vegetables into the appropriate bowls.

"Depends on the person, actually," Neelix responded, removing his apron. His job was done until thirty minutes before mealtime. "Now, I can't tell you whether or not the captain is attracted to you."

Hanging up the apron, he noticed the slightly despondent look. _Obviously, that wasn't the answer she was hoping for.…_ Sticking his head out of the kitchen, Neelix checked to make sure that no one else was loitering in the Mess Hall. Returning his attention back to Seven's plight, he considered his role in the larger scheme of things. It could quite easily backfire. He could almost hear the captain's scolding. With a shiver, Neelix shook his head, clearing away the unwanted images of fire and pain.

With a sigh, Neelix continued, "However, I can possibly help you determine if she is.…" He might never have the ability to win Kathryn Janeway, but he believed this young woman might stand a chance. Of course, being the ship's one-and-only Morale Officer and Ambassador, the Talaxian had inside knowledge about the captain—knowledge that possibly only Lt. Commander Tuvok had.

"Acceptable," replied Seven, practically standing at attention. Intently, she listened, digesting all of the information—some of which wasn't necessarily applicable to the situation or her intentions.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

**[Beta Shift]**

Seven of Nine stepped out of the locker room, wearing her black, full-cover swimsuit with electric blue racing stripes and her hair in a tight ponytail, gathered at the nape of her neck. Looking down the hall, she considered her options, remembering her previous conversation with Janeway about socialization.

Run every other Thursday to promote socialization, _Voyager_'s holographic public pool program provided a facility containing four separate, Olympic-sized pools. Each was geared towards specialized water activities and, as such, the crew tended to enjoy group sports: water polo, pool volleyball, a bit of competitive diving and swimming, etc. Until recently, Seven had no real interest in pools or any other related activity. However, that all changed when the EMH had included swimming as part of the captain's physical therapy.

Walking down the wide, open hall, Seven glanced into each area as she passed. A loud game of water polo was currently underway in Pool Two. She paused a moment, watching the boisterous play.

Ensign Machesney noticed the ex-drone out of the corner of his eye. When the current play ended, he swam to the side of the pool. "Heya, Seven, would you like to play?" he asked with an honest smile. His short raven hair was sculpted wildly by the rough water play.

Slightly surprised by the offer, Seven said, "Thank you, but I believe I shall pass."

"Okay," the ensign said. "Maybe next time?" Machesney rejoined the game, splashing the perplexed look off of a teammate's face.

Ignoring the chatter from the other pools, Seven continued down the hall. She entered the last pool room which was blissfully quiet. Looking around, she was about to leave and recheck the other areas when a blur caught her eye, slipping into the water with a marginal splash.

In her grey, Starfleet variant swimsuit, Kathryn Janeway stood on the edge of the 10 meter diving platform, questioning her own sanity. It had been years since she dove from this height, and it wasn't like relearning tennis. This had the potential to hurt—a lot! Although unsure as to exactly why, she felt able-bodied enough to attempt a high dive. The five and seven had gone well enough. Could this burst of physical activity be a result of all the physical training with Tuvok?

_Lousy time for a midlife crisis_, she thought, stepping backwards several feet. The Delta Quadrant wasn't the place to relive her dare devil days of youth. Of course, those days only ended when she was stranded in the DQ in the first place. Her rebellious streak had the ire to bristle and balk, desperate to shed the mantle of responsibility, if only for a moment. After all, she was on the Holodeck with the safeties on.

Centering her thoughts, Janeway sprinted down the platform, vaulted, slipped into a tuck, and completed one full somersault before entering the water, straight, toes extended. She felt exhilarated, swimming to the surface and over to the side of the pool. Lifting herself out, the captain stayed seated on the edge, swinging her feet idly through the water.

The nice thing about Pool Four was the panoramic view of the ocean. Also, most of the crew didn't filter back here because of the pool's high dive design profile. Only about twenty onboard crewmembers were competitive divers.

"Impressive," Seven of Nine said, joining Janeway at the pool's side. She didn't miss the brief startle which almost instantly morphed into a bright and pleasant smile.

"Thank you. Of course, it's been awhile, mind you." Waiting until Seven settled beside her, the captain slipped her fingers through her hair. "I wasn't expecting you to join me today."

Seven didn't miss the softening in Janeway's voice or the almost expectant gleam in her blue eyes. "Initially, I was unsure if I would be able to participate in our lessons today. However, the Doctor agrees the low-impact water exercises may prove beneficial." Her stomach tightened at the answering grin.

"Whenever you're ready."

Nodding, Seven slid into the water, her blond ponytail floating behind her as her feet couldn't touch the bottom. Treading, she watched as Janeway pushed off the ledge, sliding into the pool and under the water, noticing the distinct differences in the captain's physical appearance since their first pool encounter. From what Seven could discern, Janeway's arms and legs had achieved a greater muscle mass and definition, and she found herself admiring the difference.

"How does your regimen with Lt. Commander Tuvok proceed?" Seven asked when the captain resurfaced.

"Oh, it's proceeding," Janeway said dryly, brushing stray hairs out of her face. Some days, she thought Tuvok was trying to kill her, getting back for all the craziness he suffered at her hand. "He's considering recertifying the crew's physical condition in the next few months, just needs to develop a venue and find the time."

The captain made a mental note to speak about the recertification with Chakotay. Sadly, the crew was long overdue for their physical benchmarks, not that they would do _Voyager_ any good. However, the tests would help establish a gauge for general physical fitness and allow appropriate measures to be taken to continue the crew's good health and safety. Neelix's cooking was definitely a godsend, but some had started developing a spare tire during the last year—the captain included. Absently, she ran her hand over her now much flatter stomach.

The pair began their lesson. Seven wasn't necessarily pleased about learning submerging tactics, but she went through the various processes and exercises. Eventually, the idea about being underwater didn't seem to bother her so much. And as her comfort level increased, Janeway increased the difficulty of their activities, making them swim lower and longer each time. The Borg had mastered the techniques and methods without much effort—her biggest obstacle being her reluctance. However, from here on, the captain knew Seven's proficiency would depend solely on her comfort level, which would improve with more exposure and greater confidence.

"I think that'll do for today," Janeway said, climbing out of the pool via the side ladder. Grabbing a folded towel off the rack, she smirked, drying off her face, arms and head. Seven of Nine was watching her from the center of the pool. Stopping mid swipe of the towel, she cajoled, "Unless you want to try a dive.…" An impish glint tainted her eyes.

Considering the option, Seven raised her implanted brow at the captain. She glanced briefly at the diving platform, fully aware she was being teased. Returning her focus to Janeway, she said, "No; however, I would not be averse to observing you. The process is quite aesthetically pleasing."

There was an unfamiliar intensity in Seven's eyes as she simply treaded water, gaze steady on her captain.

A long-forgotten sensation traveled along Janeway's spine as she was drawn into the moment, feeling the pull of mutual attraction. She could almost believe.… The captain smiled, gaze darting away, while running a hand through her damp hair. She had exhibited better control over herself by keeping her naturally flirty behavior in check. In spite of the physical intimacy of the activity, Janeway thought today's lesson had gone well with no extraneous conversation. That was, of course, how Seven of Nine preferred it. However, she hadn't steeled herself against Seven's behavior towards _her_.

The next thing Janeway knew Seven was exiting the pool via the side-ladder. Retrieving her own towel, Seven said with a hint of disappointment, "Perhaps another time."

"I didn't realize you watched any of the crew's competitions, Seven."

Seven ran her towel over her arms. "I do not. However, after observing your degree of skill, it would be a natural conclusion." Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Janeway's brief wide-eyed look.

_Did she just…?_ Suddenly, the captain felt flushed as her stomach fluttered. Not one to be out done, Janeway said, "That's a shame. Some of the usual drivers are truly exceptional. You should attend the next dive meet."

At least five of the Starfleet divers had participated off-and-on in the professional Federation diving circuit when in the Alpha Quadrant.

"I shall consider your invitation, Kathryn." Seven deposited her towel into the used bin. "If you will excuse me, I wish to visit with Icheb."

"Of course," Janeway replied, throat dry. Her eyes tracked Seven, followed her as she walked around the pool and disappeared down the hall. A grin appeared as Janeway finished drying off and tossed her towel into the bin.

Maybe the good captain was still keyed up over the cortical node dilemma. Maybe Janeway was imagining the subtle, intelligent, flirtatious behavior that was just so damned irresistible, at least to her. There wasn't any concrete evidence either way. So, who was the woefully romance-free captain to deny the attentions—imagined or not—of an attractive female?

Janeway frowned. That attitude would lead her into trouble—trouble she couldn't afford—but why did it feel so right? Why had it proven to be so difficult to keep her distance from Seven of Nine? With a sigh, she realized several minutes had passed as she stared absently at the water before her. Shaking her head, she slipped into the locker room to change, lost in thought.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Chapter 8:  
Perceptions


End file.
